Miscellaneous Debris
by Depraved Sociopath
Summary: Ranma disappears for ten years, then shows up just as suddenly as he vanished. This story explores the reasons for and stories behind the decade-long absence.
1. Chapter 1

Miscellaneous Debris

Chapter 1

Recommended listening: "Welcome Home", by Coheed and Cambria, off of their album _Good Apollo I'm Burning Star IV, vol. 1: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness_

* * *

A man walked through the late-afternoon streets of Nerima. Slowly, deliberately, he made his way around town, taking in the sites, noting the changes, peacefully remembering better times.

At last he stopped in front of a house. A rather large house, all things considered, and one he had been expertly familiar with at one time. Steeling his resolve one last time, Ranma Saotome walked up to the door and knocked.

It had been ten years.

* * *

"Honey, could you get that? It's probably my sister and her husband."

Takeshi groaned and got up off the floor. "We need to start working out again. I'm feeling pretty old lately."

"Hey, I've been working out. _You're_ the one who stopped." Akane peeked her head around the corner. "Besides, you _are_ pretty flabby, old man."

"Har har har. I thought you had dinner to make?"

She stuck her tongue out at her husband and disappeared back into the kitchen.

The knocking came again. "Yes, I'm coming." Takeshi opened the door. "Nice to see you again-" he cut off abruptly, seeing an unfamiliar face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was expecting someone else. Can I help you?"

The bald man in the doorway just scratched behind his head awkwardly, scanning the house behind Takeshi. "Yeah, uh… is Akane Tendo home?" The stranger was wearing a long-sleeved windbreaker and what appeared to be workout pants.

"Well, she hasn't been Akane Tendo for about three years now, but yes, she's here. May I ask your name?" Takeshi shivered. Strange vibes from this fellow.

"Ah… Well…" The man continued to look past Takeshi. "Look, can you just tell her to come to the door? It's important."

"Look, I don't know who you are, but if you're not willing to give me your name, then I'm not going to let you into my house. Goodbye." Takeshi closed the door over the man's protests.

"Nabiki? Is that you?"

"No, Akane, it was some strange guy looking for you. Wouldn't give me his name."

Akane came into view, holding a plate of appetizers and looking puzzled. "That's odd. He wouldn't give his name?"

Someone knocked on the door again, and Takeshi sighed. "Look," he seethed, "I told you, go away. I'll call the police!"

"That's fine, as long as I can see Akane. It'll only take a second, then I promise I'll be outta your hair forever." His voice was muffled, but still tickled the back of Akane's memory.

"Open the door, dear; I think I might actually know him."

Takeshi just sighed and opened the door as Akane turned to set the tray down. When she turned back, her eyes went wide with shock. "R-Ranma?"

Ranma smiled sheepishly. "Hiya."

So many memories came flooding back into Akane's mind at once that her knees gave out from under her. Her ears were ringing, and she couldn't understand what her husband was saying, but she could still see Ranma's face. A swirl of emotions came and went in an instant, faded into a familiar rage. "I can't believe you would show your face around here after what you did!" Akane lunged from the floor, towards the frowning Ranma, ready to throw the first punch. "You _abandoned_ me! Without even leaving a note, no less! The entire town tried to find you for over a year! A _YEAR_, Ranma, and all you have to say is 'Hiya'?" Akane raised her fist and swung at her ex-fiancée, tears of rage running down her face.

Ranma just calmly blocked her punch, and the following punch, and the kick she aimed squarely at his groin. "Calm… Calm… Look, will ya-" Akane finally landed a punch on his nose, and it gave way with a sickening crack. "There! I let you break my nose. Will you listen, now?" The bleeding man just continued to deflect blows as Takeshi tried to get a hold of his bride.

"Akane, wait, calm down, just wait a minute, will you…"

Finally, Akane collapsed into Takeshi's arms and sobbed. "Get him out of here!"

"No no no, let me explain first. You broke my nose, the least you can do is give me a rag for the blood, and I can say what I have to say, and then I'll leave forever."

"Again?"

SNAP! Went Ranma's nose as he shoved it back into place. "Ouch. And I don't mean the nose." He wiped his upper lip on the back of his arm. "Look, really, things were more complicated than you understand." Akane whipped around, but Ranma held up his blood-soaked hands to forestall any comment. "Also, ow, my nose hurts. Also also, I'm bleeding all over the doorstep. Could I get a towel, some tissues, anything? Used toilet paper? I'm desperate here."

"No. You get nothing. Leave now, or I'll call the police." The woman's stare could have stopped Superman in his tracks.

"Now come on!" Anger crept into his voice for the first time. "I may not be the best guy in the world, and you've got a good reason to be mad at me, but I came a long way to see you and tell you the story behind this whole... thing." As he gestured his arms, flecks of blood flew onto the wall.

Takeshi had had quite enough. "Look, Ranma or whoever, wait here while I go talk to my wife. And for god's sake," he spat, tossing him a box of tissues, "clean yourself up." He turned his wife and led her back into the kitchen. She was shaking and clutching his hand so hard it hurt.

"I can't believe him, showing up after all this time..." Akane's eyes were ablaze. "We looked for him forever, you know? The whole town did! Police and everybody!"

"Yes, Akane, I know, you've told me the story. I can't feel my fingers, but don't let that stop you from giving me the death-grip." She released his hand, and he started to rub it as he spoke. "I know what happened. Once a year or so you get angry or nostalgic or whatever and you tell me again. Now I'm no shrink, but it seems to me that if after all this time you're still getting worked up about the whole ordeal, you might need some closure." Takeshi took his wife's face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. "You may not want to, but it's important."

Another tear ran down Akane's face. "But... are you sure?"

"No, are you kidding me? You hate the guy! For that matter, so do I. And if even half of what you've told me about him is true, he's dangerous, too." Takeshi handed Akane the phone. "You call the police; I'll go try to get rid of him for you, okay? You don't have to see him if you don't want to."

The shaken woman smiled in relief and hugged her best fella tightly. "See, that's why I fell in love with you. You understand me."

"Yes, we all know I'm perfect, but we still have to get rid of this psycho. Call the cops."

* * *

Voices were coming from the hallway as Takeshi made his way back to the front door – angry voices.

"...look, I'm not trying to defend myself, but you gotta believe me, there was more to the story than-"

"You shut your mouth you filthy little ingrate. I don't care a damn bit about your 'story.' You owe Akane – you owe our whole family a good deal more than some half-cocked tale."

"All right," interrupted Takeshi, rounding the corner, "Nabiki, you can back down, the police are Kasumi?"

The eldest Tendo sister was pinning Ranma to the wall with her index finger. "Have you called the police yet, Takeshi?" Kasumi's gaze never left Ranma.

Dr. Tofu hovered in the background, carrying what appeared to be a pie. "Nice to see you, Takeshi."

"Dr. Tofu," acknowledged the man without looking. "Yes, Akane is calling the police right now. Kasumi?" He shook his head. "_You_ were saying those things?"

"Little bastard has worse coming to him."

"Dear!" cried the good doctor.

Kasumi shook her head exasperatedly. "How long before the police arrive?"

"Hey, whoa now. If I leave the property before police get here, you can't arrest me. I know the law." Ranma slipped out from under Kasumi's bony finger and made for the door. "I'll just come back another day, when you've had time to cool off."

Two people cleared their throats from behind Tofu, and all eyes turned to see two police officers, apparently out of breath, eyeing the situation warily. "Apparently the gentleman doesn't know how close our police box is to this house," drawled one of the two officers in an Osakan accent.

"No, he wouldn't," replied Ryoga, his fangs glinting in the setting sun. "It was put in long after he abandoned the neighborhood."

A heavy silence fell on the scene. Almost a full minute passed before Ranma quipped, "Hey, P-chan. So you're a cop now, huh?"

Ryoga's eye twitched. "I'll take care of this, Ken. You go back to the box."

"You sure? Seems like a pretty charged scene to me." The second police officer eyed Ranma warily.

"Yeah. You go. We actually know each other from a long time ago."

"Ah. Say no more." Officer Ken backed away, saying, "If he gets hurt, you can count on me: 'resisting arrest.'" And he jogged out of sight.

"DAMMIT, YOU KNOW I DIDN'T BREAK THAT GUY'S ARM ON PURPOSE!!" screamed Ryoga after his partner.

Kasumi jumped in. "Ryoga, arrest him. He was trespassing. Takeshi asked him to leave and he refused – isn't that right, Takeshi?"

Takeshi just nodded.

"Hey, wait, whoa! I don't need no arresting! You really don't want to see me, I'll leave!" Ranma's attention was focused on the front gate.

"No. I changed my mind." Akane, flushed but composed, pushed past her husband. "Ranma, come inside. All of you, come in. We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

"Are you sure you won't stay? I'm sure you're just as curious as the rest of us."

Ryoga just forced a smile and replied, "No, Akane, I'm on duty right now. Besides, I can always ask you about it later."

Akane forced her own smile in return. "True. Well, work hard."

"I'll do my best." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I'm just down the street if you need anything."

A real smile this time. "Thanks. Take care."

He sketched a bow and walked away, saying, "You, too."

By that time, everyone had found a seat at the dining room table: Ranma sat in the corner, so everyone could see him; Kasumi and Dr. Tofu sat opposite Ranma, the corner of the table between them; Nabiki's husband Shin had arrived and sat on Kasumi's other side; and Takeshi sat directly next to Ranma. Akane flopped down next to her husband and tried to compose her thoughts.

"When did you say Nabiki was going to be here?" inquired Ranma nervously.

"As soon as she can. She's very busy, you know." Shin turned to Akane. "Who is this guy, again?"

Clearing his throat, the bald martial artist opined, "I think it would be best if we got this out of the way quickly, before Nabiki gets here. If Kasumi's reaction is any indication, I think Nabiki might shoot me."

"Quite possible, but we're still waiting." Kasumi glared anew. "She deserves to know just as much as we do."

"Right, but I'm missing something. Who _are_ you?" Shin pointed a stick of Pocky at Ranma.

Takeshi fielded the question. "Akane's ex-fiancée. Didn't Nabiki ever tell you about Akane's arranged marriage?"

Shin just stared at Ranma. "Really? I thought she was jerking me around. No one arranges marriages anymore."

An uncomfortable silence hung oppressively in the air.

"You look nice, Kasumi," volunteered Takeshi in an attempt to dispel the tension. "Is that a new dress?"

She smiled at the compliment. "Yes, it is. Ono bought it for me when he was in America last month." She was dressed to the nines, wearing a modestly-cut knee-length black dress with a blazer over the top. She had more make-up on than usual, which is to say she was wearing lipstick.

Tofu just smiled to himself. "I happened to be in California for a medical conference, so I decided to pick up a little something nice for Kasumi." He patted his chest. "I also got this shirt while I was there."

"You look very nice," chirped Kasumi as she straightened his tie – an olive green affair to match his dress shirt.

Another long pause.

Ranma cleared his throat. "Can I-"

"No. Shin, what a nice suit!" Akane turned to her brother-in-law, asking, "Did you get that in America, too?"

The man looked down at his gray pin-striped silk suit. "No, Italy. Had it shipped."

"How much did that cost?" Takeshi eyed the suit with admiration.

"What, the suit or the shipping?"

"Both."

"Well, shipping was free because I'm a repeat customer, but the suit was-"

Ranma cleared his throat again. "Could I please-"

"No!" Akane turned back to Shin. "Please continue."

A couple of beats passed before he said, "The suit was rather cheap, actually. It was a remainder from last season."

"Translation: more than I make in a year." Takeshi grinned and continued, "But it is a nice suit. I'm still stuck with this wool blazer I've been wearing since college." In truth, he was wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt and maroon tie.

"Now, why is it that more people don't wear traditional Japanese clothing when they dress up?" interjected Akane. "I mean, Shin and Takeshi are wearing suits; Tofu is wearing a shirt and tie; Kasumi is wearing a dress; and I'm wearing this old pantsuit I've had for six years." Akane's suit may have been old, but the years had been kind to both the suit and her body, so she still cut a striking figure.

And Takeshi appreciated it. "You know I love that suit on you. You look beautiful."

Ranma coughed into his fist. "I would really like a-"

"What?!" exploded Shin. "What do you want so badly that you have to keep interrupting people?"

"...a glass of water." Ranma's teeth were clenched and his knuckles were white, but he managed to put some humility into his request. "Please?"

No one moved. No one even blinked.

"Get it yourself."

"No, Akane, no." Takeshi sighed. "We may not have invited Ranma, but he is still technically a guest. I'll get it, Ranma." He stood. "Would anyone else like a drink?"

"Wine for me, please," said Shin.

"If you have any beer, I'd like one." Tofu unconsciously put his hand on the small of Kasumi's back. "Would you like a beer, too?"

She smiled, but replied, "No, just tea for me."

"Tea," echoed Akane.

"Okay, I'll be right back." And the host of the evening moved into the kitchen to prepare the various drinks.

Leaving no barrier between Ranma and Akane.

Electric hate sparked in the air.

"Why don't I go and help him?" Akane practically ran out of the room.

Ranma shook his head and muttered to himself, "Tonight is going to be a long night..."

* * *

A few minutes after Akane and Takeshi returned with the drinks, the front door opened and closed; footsteps hurried toward the dining room. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. I hope I didn't holy shit it's Ranma where's my gun?"

"SEE?" shouted Ranma as he jumped to his feet. Nabiki was rooting through her purse as Ranma bounded past her, toward the door. "I knew it!"

Akane was on her feet just in time to stop Ranma. "No, stay! She's not going to shoot you." She turned to Nabiki, who was, by now, holding a stun gun. "Put that away."

"Are you serious? Is she serious?" pleaded Nabiki, looking to the others in the room. "Akane, this guy ruined your life. I'm going to zap him a few times, maybe sterilize him," Ranma winced, "then you can interrogate him. After that, whatever. Maybe we'll call the cops and have him arrested."

"Apparently, the police have already been here," mumbled Shin around another stick of Pocky. "Come and sit down. We all want to hear what he has to say."

Nabiki just glared. "You stay out of this. You weren't here when this jackass flipped the whole town on its ear by disappearing. And how many times have I told you that I hate it when you stuff your fat face with snacks?" This was a strange thing to say, because Shin didn't look any heavier than Ranma or Takeshi.

"I can do whatever the hell I want! Besides, you know I don't have time for a real lunch during the day, so snacks are all I can manage!"

"Please!" she scoffed derisively. "You just don't want to go to the trouble of fixing yourself a nutritious meal the night before, like everyone else in the world does."

Shin was on his feet now, his brow furrowed. "Are you kidding me? I'm the CEO of one of the most prestigious financial analysis firms in all of Tokyo! You know damn well that every hour of every day, I'm working! In fact," he jabbed a finger at his wife, "the only reason I could even _come_ tonight was because I managed to fit two days' worth of meetings into one! I got to work at 6:00 this morning, and I haven't even been to the BATHROOM since!"

The whole room was focused on the two quarreling lovers. Even Ranma was distracted enough to make his way back to the table and sit down. Akane had followed and was sipping on her tea.

"Oh, mister high-and-mighty! I work just as much as you do, but do you see me neglecting my health and then bitching about it in front of my whole family? No! You're just a weak little boy!"

"Oh, I'm a little boy, am I?" Shin took a step closer to his wife. "I didn't hear you calling me a little boy in bed last night, did I? As a matter of fact, I seem to recall you screaming something about me being the biggest you'd ever had!"

Ranma's eyes widened and his face flushed. But no one else even batted an eyelash.

"HA! I'd had bigger than you before I even graduated high school! You couldn't excite me sexually if you needed batteries!" Nabiki took a step of her own.

"Then why, pray tell, did I see you waddling toward the bathroom this morning, dear?" Another step.

Nabiki put her nose right in Shin's face. "Because you asked me to ride you like a cowboy, and damn if your fat ass isn't wide."

"God I love you."

"Shut up and kiss me."

Ranma had to turn away. He looked to Takeshi, who was just smiling and sipping his drink. "Are they always like this?"

All heads nodded. "To be honest," said Kasumi over the moans in the background, "the only way we know they're happy is if they're fighting."

"Tell me about it." Akane smiled and took a cracker. "Remember last Summer, when they just stopped talking to each other? It got so bad Nabiki had to come stay with us for a couple of days."

"Yes, I do. Tofu and I were just talking about that the other day, actually. What happened that got them so mad at each other, anyway?"

Waving her hand in a flippant manner, Akane replied, "Oh, nothing major, really. Shin just happened to mention that he was working with an old ex-girlfriend, and Nabiki can get pretty jealous."

More nods.

"But, are you okay with... _that_... going on all the time? And, I mean, the language...?" Ranma had to work at averting his eyes.

"Oh, you should hear it when they're in bed!" Takeshi mimicked covering his ears. "That time when Nabiki stayed with us, Shin actually came over to get her after a couple of days. They, ah... 'made up' in the middle of the day, on into the night, and again early the next morning."

Kasumi's face had gotten a little flushed when she replied, "Well, they're in love."

"Yeah," coughed Takeshi, "and Nabiki likes it rough."

"Takeshi!" scolded Akane, swatting her husband on the shoulder.

"It's true! You've seen the, um... the..." Takeshi leaned in and whispered something to Akane, who turned scarlet.

"True, but you don't have to go telling everyone about it."

"Come on, will you look at them?" Akane's husband just gestured to the undulating couple in the middle of the floor. "They could care less what people think."

"Wait, what are you talking about, now?" Mortified, but still curious, Ranma pressed on, "What did you see?"

Akane just waved him off with a scowl. "Nothing."

"No, what, really? I can handle it."

"Ranma. Back off. This is none of your business." Her tone left no room for argument.

An uncomfortable silence was punctuated only by Nabiki and Shin.

"Well, I suppose I should break them up before they start undressing each other." Akane went over and tried to get their attention.

"Yeah, again," laughed Tofu, who was promptly silenced by a swat of his own from Kasumi.

Takeshi leaned over to Ranma and whispered, "Riding crop." Accompanied by a wink and a smile, nothing more needed to be said.

Ranma just flushed an even deeper scarlet.

* * *

After everyone had settled down, Akane brought out the meal, and Ranma was forced to watch as everyone ate. "You weren't invited, and so I didn't make enough for you," explained Akane, her jaw tight with distaste. "You may eat what is left over."

It turned out that there was quite a bit left over, but Ranma was hesitant. Everyone else had eaten, though, and they seemed to be surviving, so... he took a bite, found it was quite good, and finished off the plate. And the rest of the leftovers. And some of the scraps from other people's plates.

"Sorry about that, but I haven't really eaten today. Or yesterday, for that matter."

Kasumi and Akane shared a look as they cleared the table. Soon they were finished, and brought out two bottles of sake and cups for everyone but Ranma. Again Akane explained, "You're telling us the story, you don't get to drink. We, however, have to listen to it, and if I'm going to survive the night without throttling you, I need to have some liquor in me." Nabiki nodded and poured herself a glass. Kasumi was already on her third.

Ranma, meanwhile, just shook his head. "I can't believe you... I really can't believe you."

"Deal with it. Now I'm giving you the chance you asked for, so go." The short-haired woman scowled. Nabiki and Kasumi leaned in to hear better; Kasumi was already flushed from the rice wine. Shin and Takeshi sat back, interested but not totally invested. Tofu just smiled nervously and sipped his beer.

"Fine. Fine." He took a deep breath and started to speak.

The following is the story he spun.

* * *

It's crazy, you know? I mean, you were all there for the weird martial arts grudges, the Shampoos searching the world over just to fight me, the women Pop had promised I would marry. And after a year, I thought I might be done for a while. I mean, I had beaten Saffron – the head honcho of assholes – and come away relatively unscathed. What could be worse than almost losing Ak... well, you know what I mean. I thought I was done.

But, of course, I wouldn't be here in this situation if that were true.

I started getting these psychotic letters, right? Crude, hand-drawn pictures of the most revolting stuff: worm-ridden corpses, the faces of my friends and family cut off and drying above a fire, just insane stuff. I didn't know where it was coming from, so I couldn't do anything.

Heh. Pops taught me to fight using my fists, but he didn't teach me anything about psychological warfare.

So I started to freak out, got real angry all the time. Kasumi, you remember when I kicked the front door in, claimed I slipped? Akane, when I kicked P-Chan through the dojo door? It was a bad time for me.

I mean, I didn't know where to go with my anger. If I had known who was sending me this stuff I could have gone and put him in the hospital. But the doors and the pigs got the brunt of my anger instead.

It went on that way for a couple of weeks, if you'll remember. I got worse and worse by the day, as these... slices of madness kept coming at me from all over. At school, when I woke up in the morning, when I went to the_ bathroom_... there was always some effed up picture or a sadistic threat.

I was just about at my breaking point when the messages stopped.

I was beside myself. I almost didn't know what to do, I was so relieved.

Two days later, it started back up, but worse. That's when the pictures started coming.

Man...

(Long pause)

It's really painful to remember those, even now.

(Another long pause, followed by a hollow chuckle)

So, I mean, I came here to explain, and it wouldn't be much of an explanation if I left out the important details, so...

First came the pictures of my mom. Her at home, her at the grocery, her... showering, or sleeping, or... (Sigh) The most intimate pictures of my mother I had ever seen, and they were coming by some anonymous third party.

Then, of course, they changed. Real, actual pictures of my mom... being tortured. Raped, brutalized.

I tried to tell myself that it was all a hoax, that there was no way. But eventually – when the picture came of my mother being cut up like a biology experiment – I went to find her.

And, of course, she was fine. Nothing had happened to her.

So, I went back home, and fell asleep crying.

Next morning, a note _inside my school bag_. "We know where she lives." Attached was a piece of the kimono my mom had been wearing the day before.

I rushed over to see her again, and she admitted that the kimono had gone missing. "Probably just misplaced it," she assured me. "It'll turn up." She couldn't understand why I was so upset.

Then the pictures changed again. Ukyo, and Shampoo, and some of the girls from school... the same types of pictures. Real, candid photos of them at work, at home, at school, followed by gruesome mock-ups of what would happen to them if I didn't... something. Some thing I didn't know I was doing, but I had to stop it.

Or whatever. I was really strung out by this point.

Again, the pictures stopped abruptly, but I wasn't relieved this time. I was terrified; what was going to come next? What could possibly be worse than my friends being murdered on film, delivered directly to my door?

Three days later, I found out.

(A deep, shuddering breath)

Kasumi, you and Nabiki were first. Very similar pictures, but it was worse, because I knew you, lived with you, cared for you in my own strange little-brotherly way. Audio recordings came, Kasumi mumbling in her sleep, Nabiki extorting classmates for more money.

Akane...

(Another deep breath, followed by a pause)

Locks of your hair started coming with these photos. That was it, I thought, man, that was the end. I couldn't bear anything happening to Akane, most of all. I mean...

Well, if you don't know by now that I loved you, you never will, so I guess there's that.

This had been going on for over a month, now, and I was completely spent. I went to the roof of the house and just started screaming.

You remember.

(A chorus of affirmatives)

The next day, finally, a note. Directions on where to meet with someone. So I went. I wasn't in fighting form; I hadn't been eating or sleeping. But I had to go. There was no other choice.

Akane, remember what I said the morning I left? I came to you before you left for school, told you I was sorry?

(In the background, "Yes, you looked so pale. I thought that was really strange, especially coming from you, but you'd been so weird for such a long time I was just relieved to have you speaking to me again." A pause. "I... we were all worried about you, Ranma. But you kept going on, telling everybody that you were fine. Who were we to argue?")

Right. Who were you to argue?

Okay, so I got there. It was this old building, probably abandoned, but it looked like it was under construction, too. Like... well, it turns out it was the planned site for the new hospital, but I didn't know that at the time.

So I got there and waited, and waited, and waited. It was agony. No one showed until about 1:00 PM. I saw these three guys start walking towards me, and I straight up jumped them. I was so wound up, strung out crazy that I just reacted without thinking. Managed to ground one of them before they could react, but then the other two grabbed me, threw me across the yard, area, whatever. Building site.

So I came back at them, but this time, all three were ready, and they were able to hold me off for a bit, at least until I had to stop to catch my breath. That gave them all the time they needed to start talking.

"Attack me again and your whole family dies."

Great introduction, right?

So the guy I hit the first time, turns out he's in charge of the little meeting. Says he's from some obscure Vietnamese martial arts sect, and that my dad had promised that I would join them as a member. Pledged me to their order, or something. All I had to do to guarantee your safety, Akane, Nabiki, Kasumi, was to leave with them and accept initiation into their order.

I yelled something along the lines of "Bullshit, fuck that and fuck you, I'll kill you," blah blah blah. I was angry and I wanted none of it.

He calmly replied that I didn't have to decide now. I had one week to decide, dropped his business card on the ground. "Call me when you decide," and he walked away. Just before he left the yard, he turned and called back, "Oh, and tell your friends to be careful; wouldn't want anything to happen to them." And he was gone.

I raced after them, but they really were gone. Couldn't find even a sign of the guys. Disappeared like ghosts.

So I went back and picked up the business card. Just had a phone number on it. No name, no address, no nothing. Just a number.

I don't know how long I stayed there, just looking at that thing, trying to decide how I would destroy this dick. I ran through a thousand scenarios in my head, of training for a week, then calling him and beating him to death with his own damn shoes; of calling him right now and just atomizing him with my hate. But by the time Ukyo came along and noticed me (a gasp from one of the women), it was getting toward sunset.

I just pocketed the card and started walking toward her restaurant with her, trying to sound like nothing was wrong. I mean, you know me, always gotta fight my own battles, right?

Turns out I didn't need the full week.

Ukyo skipped ahead a bit, turned to tease me about something or other, and then she was gone. Hit by a bus.

(More gasps, followed by an uncomfortable cough)

Yes, I was there when it happened.

(Ranma clears his throat)

The bus, as you will recall, was supposedly driven by a drunk, had skipped up onto the curb and killed Ukyo, injuring a bunch of other people. But the guy I had just talked to, the man whose card was in my pocket, smiled at me from the alleyway across the street, and was gone.

I rushed over to Ukyo's limp body, and...

(A shuddering sigh)

Well, she was already... gone. Blood everywhere, her face was pulverized so I couldn't even (He coughs, and swallows) Sorry. I couldn't even recognize her anymore.

(A long, pregnant silence as Ranma takes a drink of water.)

Well.

That made up my mind for me.

I had to kill this guy.

I ran to a pay phone, ignoring the commotion behind me, and called the number. Demanded to meet him. He said, "All right, how about where we just met?"

I got there, he was waiting with the same two guys from before.

Of course, I was beyond angry. I was hurt, crying, vengeful. I attacked them, and they straight mopped the floor with me. Pummeled me within an inch of my life, then held me down while the leader spoke.

"Ranma Saotome, you belong to us. You have belonged to us since your father pledged you to us in exchange for a loan of ¥1,000,000." He chuckled then, and asked, "How does it feel, to know your exact monetary value?"

I, of course, just spat at him. Missed by a mile – my blood was everywhere, I couldn't even see my own hands – but the gesture was taken as intended.

"I thought so," he replied calmly. "But the fact remains that you are ours, and you will come with us. Whether now or at the end of the week is up to you, but just remember: your friend Ukyo was just the beginning. We know where all of your people are located. You've seen the pictures." At this point, Ukyo's death finally hit me and I just collapsed into fits of sobbing. "Yes, well, I'm sure you'll get over her eventually. So what will it be? A week of pain and suffering for your family, or do you want to come with us now?"

So I agreed. Damn him to hell, but I agreed.

And that was ten years ago.

* * *

The sake sat on the table, forgotten. No one had taken a drink, spoken, even moved for a full minute.

Then Ranma spoke again. "So yeah, that's why I left. And that's what I wanted you to know." He looked at Akane, who had tears in her eyes, and whispered, "I did it to save you."

Another silence.

"Well, then what?" came the shuddering reply. Akane wiped her eyes, but scowled at Ranma anew. "Ten years is a long time, Ranma. What else happened?"

Shaking his head, the bald man sighed, "No, that's not important. I told you what I came to tell you, and now I'm leaving." He made to get up, but Nabiki's cutting voice stopped him.

"No. Absolutely not. You can't come in here, tease us with a crazy story like that, and then abandon us again." She stabbed the air with her finger. "You sit right there and tell us everything. Every last thing that happened in the last ten years. Who were these assholes? When did your father make this deal? How did you escape, or did you? What happened to the rest of your life, Ranma? You owe us that."

The table nodded in unison.

Ranma stared up at the ceiling for a second before clapping his hands down on the table. "Okay, fine. You want a story, you'll get one."

* * *

POSTSCRIPT:

All right, so I guess this is what it is.

Here's the deal: I have been out of the writing loop for a long while, and that's the God's honest truth. I suck at writing, even more than I did before, so I really and truly need people to tell me what they think.

Is it good? Is it bad? And, most importantly, _WHY?_ Tell me if you think my characters are unrealistic, or if the pacing is off, or if the premise is ridiculous. Tell me if you think some words should be omitted, or if you think something should be added somewhere. I don't care how you tell me; post a comment, email me (on my author page), whatever. Just please tell me. I want to get better, and the only way I know what I'm doing incorrectly is if people tell me.

Please and thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

Miscellaneous Debris

Chapter 2

Recommended listening: "The First Single", by The Format, off of their album _Interventions and Lullabies_

Ver. 0.2.1

* * *

I agreed to go with them, and then they drugged me. Chloroform, I think, but it could have been something else. Anyway, when I woke, I was bandaged up and on a plane. Strapped down, of course. "Sorry for the restraints, Ranma," said the man who had killed Ukyo, "but you understand, we aren't sure yet how compliant you will be in the future." And then he stuffed the rag in my face again, and everything went black.

That happened a couple more times before we got where we were going. I'd wake up, strapped to something or other, and we'd be moving – train, plane, even in the back of a van. Then they'd knock me out.

The last time I woke up, I was in a room. Small room, 'bout the size of a closet. Maybe a little bigger. You know, enough room for me to lay down, but not much else.

From what I could tell, it was a hut. Dirt floor, wooden walls with holes in them, that type of place. The door was locked, and I was still hurt pretty much everywhere, so all I could do was cry.

I was still really messed up. Ukyo had just died, for me. I didn't know how long it had been, but as far as I was concerned, the bus had hit her twenty minutes ago.

I stayed in that cell for about a week, I think. Food came to me via a slot under the door, and I nursed my wounds in silence. I dug a small pit by my feet, where I could relieve myself. Occasionally someone would come close enough so that I could hear them talk, but everything I heard was in Vietnamese.

After a time, the door finally opened. By this time I had healed for the most part, but I was getting sick from being so close to my own filth for so long. I tried to put up a tough front, but the woman who grabbed me could have snapped me like a twig, and I'd not have been able to stop her.

She started leading me somewhere, and I started in with my questions. Where the hell am I, what are you going to do with me, stuff like that. But she didn't even blink twice, just kept moving me toward some unknown destination.

We finally arrived, I guessed, because the lady stopped and shoved me through a curtained doorway. I picked myself up and looked around, only to find a panel of about seven older people staring at me, and Ukyo's killer standing off to the side.

I bared my teeth at him, but before I could move, one of the people said, "Wait. There will be no fighting in this room."

"All right," I snarled, "then can I take this joker out back and kill him there?"

I was surprised when everyone in the room laughed. The woman who had spoken before - I took her to be the leader in this situation - addressed me with an affectionate smile, of all things. "Well, you are more than welcome to try, but there are certain rules in this society concerning duels. It would be best to save that for a later date." She spread her arms, indicating the other seven people in the room. "Welcome to the village of Núi Phương tây, Ranma Saotome, and welcome to the Order of Lòng Trung Thành."

Then they all bowed to me, even the killer. I was a bit off guard at this point, so I just bowed back weakly. "Uh... what?"

Eloquent, I know.

"First things first," said the woman, "Let us introduce ourselves. I am the leader of the Village Council, Hoa Mới, and to my sides are the other members." She went on to introduce the others, but they didn't play a very large part in my life, so you don't need to know their names. "Collectively, we make up the ruling body of this village."

"Okay..." I said, when she paused and looked at me expectantly. "So, uh, what's all this about the Order of Long Trunk Tans, or whatever?"

But she just waved my question off. "We will get to that in good time. First, we want to welcome you to our village. After you are comfortable here, your training will begin. Nghe Tốt over there, whom you have already met, is the leader of the Training Council. He will be personally overseeing your training, as you are somewhat of a special case, Ranma Saotome."

"NO!" I screamed. "I want nothing to do with that murderer. I'm going to kill him, and that's it."

The most surprising thing, I think, was that Hoa Mới's entire personality changed so quickly and so terribly. "Listen to me, Ranma Saotome, you petulant child. You belong to us. You will do as we say, every minute of every day. There is no negotiation, there is no refusal. You do, or bad things happen."

Again caught off guard, I just stared at her until I could get my mouth to work. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't belong to you! You kidnapped me! You came and harassed me for a month before killing my best friend in front of my eyes, beating me half to death, drugging me and dragging me," I gestured around wildly, "who _knows_ where!"

"You are mad at us, yes?" Hoa Mới was calm, calculating. "You feel we have wronged you, yes?" I nodded, and she snapped forward with such speed that I barely had time to twitch before my throat was in her hand. "Your father is the one who deserves your ire. He made a deal with us, and then reneged by running off with you. He is the one who condemned your friend to die. He is the one who cheated _us_," and she squeezed my throat for emphasis, "out of one million Japanese yen. _WE_ are the victims here, Ranma, as much as you." She tossed me down onto the ground and I, of course, started coughing. "Our society works very differently from others with which you may be familiar." She gestured to the other Village Council members. "None of us here were born in the village. Very few children are born here, for various reasons which we will cover later. So how do we survive, you ask? We do favors for people who can not afford them, and in return, we ask for a small token: a child.

"Most of the time," she continued, pacing in front of me like a math teacher, "how this agreement works is that a poor family with too many mouths to feed asks us for something. Money, generally, for doctor's fees or more livestock, but it is not uncommon for a family to ask for protection from gangsters, or even a small village to request aid in clearing their roads after a particularly nasty monsoon. You see, we do favors, and in return, we ask for nothing more than our continued survival." She stopped and turned to look at me again, her gaze piercing. "Usually.

"Usually, these families have a half-dozen children, and no way to feed them. Usually, we are doing an additional favor to the family by taking these babes off their hands." She leaned down, and I involuntarily flinched. "But your father was a special case.

"He came to us and begged for money. He explained that he had a gambling problem, and had to pay off some gangsters. He'd heard about us from the local villagers. We tried to explain to him that he needed to give us something in return, that this was not a charity service. He assured us that anything of his was fair game. And so we said we wanted a child."

I wanted to close my ears, but I knew it was true. Pop had done some pretty crazy things, as you all know. Well, maybe the two new guys here don't know, but just ask your wives later. They'll tell you. My father was kind of a bum.

Anyway, she went back to her seat and spoke again. "He was very quick to agree to our terms. We, of course, wanted to see you before he went running off with our money. So he brought you here - you must have been seven or so at the time, and you were fast asleep. No doubt you remember nothing of the encounter.

"We immediately refused. We take babes young enough to mold, not grown children who have already begun to develop personalities and attachments to family. But he begged and pleaded, and assured us that you were more than worth the trouble. He said that he'd been training you in martial arts, and that when it came time to train you in our own ways, you would be head and shoulders above the rest of the initiates." Hoa Mới sighed and closed her eyes. "It was not an easy decision to make, of course. Our traditions are such that the mere idea of acquiescing to this bargain was repulsive. But your father is quite the salesman, Ranma Saotome, and he managed to convince enough of us to get the money." She opened her eyes again, but looked at the ceiling. "Including myself. What a fool I was."

Her gaze locked with mine once more. "As soon as he had the money he disappeared. The Council was thrown into chaos, and the predecessor in my position was forced to duel for his life. He was killed, and I ascended to the position of Village Chief. And as soon as the transfer of power was complete, I started to use my influence to fix this problem. I was in this very deeply myself, Ranma Saotome. I had also been in favor of the deal. I wanted your father caught and killed, and I wanted what was rightfully ours - namely, you.

"It took some convincing of the other Council Members, both in the Village Council and the Training Council, but eventually we decided to send people after you. Two of them, actually. And they have been searching for you ever since." She smirked then, and I thought that, despite all odds, she actually looked rather matronly. "You and your father left a swath of destruction a mile wide, but for some reason they could never quite catch up with you. Until last year, that is, when you finally stopped moving and settled in Japan. Naturally, when the two agents reported back that they had found you, I and the rest of the Council were ecstatic. We could finally erase this blemish from our past.

"But," she sighed, "your family is full of surprises and problems, and we were forced to sit idly by as ghosts and weirdoes from all over the globe came to fight you, Ranma Saotome. Thankfully for us, you dispatched them all quite handily, and we decided to wait, to let you accrue martial mastery at your own pace. After all, we are a society that exists in the shadows, and letting these... characters know about us would bring more harm than good.

"And then you defeated Saffron, and there were none left. None but us."

She spread her arms wide. "And here you are."

"And now you want me to, what, smile and play along?" Incensed, I jumped back to my feet. "I don't care what my father promised! I'm my own person, and I'm not joining your freaky cult!"

"Ah, but surely you see our predicament, no? We lost very much because of you." She was calm again, and that put me on guard.

"Look, if you want your money back, I can get it. That won't be a problem."

"I am not just talking about money." I could feel the jaws of a trap starting to close, and I didn't like it. "We have lost money, yes, but also a fair amount of honor, about ten years of time, and a very good Village Chief. No, Ranma Saotome, you have cost us more than you think. And now that we have you, we do not intend on letting you go again."

At that moment I felt more afraid than I have ever felt in my entire life.

"Minh Màu, tell Ranma Saotome how this will work, please."

The old man on the end, closest to the murderer, spoke. "Ranma Saotome, you are now a part of our society. This means that you will abide by our rules. You will perform tasks around the village as you become familiar with our society and customs. Toward this end, we have assigned you a guide, whom you will meet after this meeting is adjourned. She will teach you our ways, and also our language."

"But you speak Japanese."

Again, all assembled laughed. "The Councils do, yes, but not the general village population. No, you will learn Vietnamese, as well as any other languages we feel will benefit you. You will be assigned sleeping quarters, village clothes, and when the time comes, training clothes. You will be given a strict ration of food each day. And, most importantly," the man's eyes glinted dangerously, "you will not try to escape. You are ours, Ranma, and you will remain ours."

The killer spoke. I had to restrain myself from attacking him. "You will find that, though we wish you to have a degree of self-sufficiency, and even to learn to embrace life here in our village, we are not stupid. And we realize that you are not stupid, either. Which is why we want to assure you that any disobedience will be on your head." He had the audacity to smirk. "Do we understand each other?"

I couldn't even speak. I just nodded, once.

"Good." The Village Chief smiled and clapped her hands together. "Then our meeting is adjourned. Saya!" she yelled, "Come in here!"

A young girl came out of a side door I hadn't even noticed before. She couldn't have been older than thirteen, but she carried herself dangerously. "Ranma Saotome, meet Saya. She will be your guide for the next few weeks."

Her bow was formal, cold. I couldn't even look at her, let alone bow back.

"You will have to forgive Ranma Saotome, Saya. He does not mean to be rude; he has just been through a great deal lately." Saya nodded at the Chief, but her expression did not change. "Ranma, you will follow Saya until I personally inform you that you may stop. Understood?" Again, I refused to answer. I refused to even look at her. "...Very well. Saya, take him to your quarters. He should rest. He looks sickly." Saya made for the door, and the Chief addressed me again. "You would do well to follow her instructions carefully, Ranma. She is a sharp child. And you won't like the consequences if you rebel."

I held my head high as I walked out of that room, following the little girl that would be my guide. I tried to look proud, strong, but the tears running down my face betrayed my true feelings.

* * *

Saya was actually eleven, I would come to learn, but you wouldn't know it from how she acted.

The first night she showed me to our sleeping quarters - a cramped hut with nothing but two small cots, a small window, and the doorway. It was dark outside, so I couldn't truly tell where she was leading me, but it didn't matter. I was too... I don't know, sad? Sad. I was too sad to pay much attention to anything, anyway. Though I did notice that the meeting hall had been relatively modern in appearance, having a wooden floor and electricity.

Unfortunately, Saya's and my hut was decidedly less modern. It was a hut in every sense of the word, being made out of what appeared to be reeds or bamboo shoots. There was no door, just a curtain separating inside from out. The window, likewise, was left wide open, save for mosquito netting.

Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked.

As soon as we got into the hut, Saya started to undress. "Sleep. You will feel better in the morning."

I sat down on my cot heavily, heard it creak under my weight. There were so many things going through my head, still, that I didn't notice anything until Saya stood in front of me, naked but for underwear. "Sleep, Ranma Saotome. We wake early."

And she crawled onto her cot, covered herself with the small blanket, and was off to sleep.

I was completely flustered on top of being devastated, confused, angry, hurt, uh... what else is there? Pretty much every emotion in the book, I guess. I was disturbed that a girl of that age would still be totally fine getting naked in front of a stranger, but that was the least of my worries. I lied back on my cot, and thought.

I didn't sleep that first night. I was consumed with thoughts of my father, selling me for a million yen - something that is very much possible. I thought of Ukyo... I thought about a lot of things.

Man, that image of Ukyo's lifeless body... it haunts my dreams.

But I resolved to beat this, whatever it took. If they wanted to teach me martial arts, that was one thing. But if they thought I was going to just lie back and let them get away with murder, well, that was something else entirely.

I just had to be very careful.

* * *

So anyway, that first day was strange. This little girl...

(Ranma sighs and leans back, resting on his hands.)

Here's the deal: I have ten years to get through, and if I'm going to do it in a night, I'm going to have to gloss over some of the more boring stuff. Sorry.

The important things about that first couple of weeks, in summary:

It was a fairly large village, a little more than a square kilometer. The training facilities were separate, but almost as big.

We were in the Kon Tum province of Vietnam – I didn't find that out right away, but you should know that bit of info.

The majority of the village did not have electricity, but was mostly built out of wood. There were only a few huts.

Everyone worked, no exceptions. I was doing labor as of noon the first day.

They were almost completely self-sufficient, growing their own food and everything.

Baths were not separated by sex, which explains why all of the women completely lacked modesty.

They had a very rigidly defined daily schedule.

All members of the society were trained in combat, and were a part of the Order.

And the big thing, the reason they were training all the time? When the Order was not tending the fields, they were hiring themselves out as mercenaries. That's how they made their money, the stuff they lent to poor farmers in exchange for babies. They whored themselves out to everyone from governments to terrorists.

Mostly, when the Order went to work for a different organization, they would end up training ground troops or police officers. Sometimes assassinations were requested, and sometimes squads of up to 15 were hired for surgical strikes - but that was the largest number of people allowed outside in a group. Strict secrecy was the only way to ensure that their home would not be attacked by unhappy employers or bitter rivals or whatever.

So after a few weeks of working the farms, I had been eating and sleeping - if not regularly, then at least more than before - so I was feeling better physically. I also had a pretty good idea of the layout of the place. Plans were starting to develop.

I had planned out my escape route, even gone so far as to stash bits of my food ration every day for traveling. Then one morning Saya woke me up and said, "Today is the day we start your training. Come." And she was off. I had to shake the sleep out of my limbs as I was running to catch up. She took a different route that morning, and moved away from the village.

I panicked. I don't really know why; I guess I thought of this training as the last step before I became one of them. So I let her get ahead of me and as soon as she was out of sight, I bolted.

I didn't even make it out of the village. A couple of guys stopped me just before I got out of the town proper.

I put up a pretty good fight, really. In fact, in the ten years since, I'd have to say that I'm most proud of that day's fight.

I took those two guys out with virtually no problem. Then a few more people showed up, and I was able to lead them into a Hiryu Shoten Ha, so I thought that was that. But then the villagers around me started attacking. I was able to fend off the guys, but the women were pretty darn good, and of course at the time I still had an aversion to hitting women. (Ranma clears his throat and looks around the table nervously.) I mean, hitting women who were attacking me, of course. I'd never hit a woman in a domestic situation. That's just wrong.

(Ranma fidgets nervously, fighting off the stares from around the table.)

Come on, you know what I meant.

The fight. Right.

The people just kept coming. The old ghoul's training – sorry, Cologne's training had really helped with my speed and strength, and I was able to last a good while due to the endurance training from fighting with Ryoga and Happosai and Pantyhose Taro and… you know the list, I don't have to finish.

But they eventually wore me down, primarily because I wouldn't actually strike any of the girls. At least, that's what I tell myself.

Long story short, I ended up in front of the Village Council again, and the leader lady was none too happy. "Well, Ranma Saotome, I can't say that I expected you to completely surrender, but neither did I imagine that you'd take out almost five percent of our population. I'm impressed, but also disappointed." She looked me square in the eye – hell, she looked deep into my soul, it felt like. "That's strike one." Then she waved her hand, and I was brought of to a detention cell for two weeks.

That was pretty bad. The place they brought me was a bamboo hut, like the first one I'd seen. I broke the walls a couple of times, tried to escape, but they'd assigned guards. I got moved to another hut, where I tried to escape again. The third time they got fed up and chained me to the ground.

They kept an electric light on at all times; they removed the mosquito netting, so I got positively eaten alive every morning and evening; they fed me once a day, and not much; and of course I had to defecate on myself.

Two weeks of that. The whole situation kept me from sleeping, and whenever I actually managed to pass out, the guards would kick me or pour water on my face.

Heh. You think you get strung out after an all-nighter, try a two-weeker.

I started hallucinating, talking to myself, got really sick, too. After about six days, I blacked out.

Dr. Tofu can fill you in on the details of sleep depravation, I'm sure. I must have gotten some sleep during that period, or I'd be dead, but I can't imagine I got a lot.

The next thing I remember is Saya helping me back to our little hut, and then sleeping. I stayed in bed for another few days, writhing from feverish dreams where I relived Ukyo's murder, or I watched Kasumi and Nabiki get flayed alive, or my father sell the whole Tendo family on an auction block.

Eventually I woke up for real, and my roommate nursed me back to health. We worked on my Vietnamese – which is a damn hard language to learn – and I learned a little more about her. I was still psycho from the improvised sleep depravation tank they'd left me in, and I needed any human contact I could manage.

I'd ask her questions like, "How old are you?" and "Do you know where your real family is from?" and stuff like that, but for a long time she just ignored me.

My persistence finally paid off late in the second day. "If I answer your questions, will you shut up?"

"Uh… yeah, sure, why not."

"Fine." She sat down on her cot and glared at me. "Ask."

The interview didn't last long; only a few minutes. But I found out that she was originally from Japan, as well. Her parents had sold her when she was four, making her somewhat of a special case like me. She still remembered a little bit of her family, but wasn't really connected to them in any way. "They aren't my family anymore. The people here are."

Then I was out of questions and she was out of patience. I ate some weak broth she'd brought for me. I was about to go back to sleep, but she said, "You stink. We're going to take a bath."

Let me tell you, having an eleven year-old girl wash you because you're too weak to do it yourself… it's pretty crazy.

Oh, hell, I almost forgot. Sorry about this, but it's kind of second nature to me now.

Yes, I was still cursed, and I still am. (Ranma rubs a hand over his bald head.) And let me tell you, my female body has aged much more gracefully than my male body.

But yeah, the Village Council knew about the girl curse. They'd been following Pop and me for ten years, after all. The villagers found out pretty quickly, too, 'cause I took a bath the first day I was there.

Heh. Some international assassins. There was a virtual riot when I changed the first time. But the Council soon got things under control, and some of the villagers had heard of Jusenkyo after all, so no big deal.

Back to the story, then.

So Saya took care of me for the next few days, and then I started in on work again.

Cut to three weeks later, when Saya woke me up early. "Come, you start your training today." She turned away, but glanced back long enough to intone, "And no escape attempts, this time."

Well, you know me. Always up for a challenge. And I'd been feeling extra perky that week, finally recovered from my stay in the detention cell. So I followed Saya to the edge of town, and when she went off one direction, I went the other.

After that I was gone. North, or as north as I could manage. I figured that north would be China, and from there I could make my way east, back to Japan. Maybe take me a couple of months, but I'd make it, and then I could get to rooting out these assholes and getting their little society erased.

So I'd probably been going for a half an hour or so, but they caught up with me. Saya caught up with me, actually. Of course I was surprised, and I bolted as soon as I saw her; but other people were there too and they caught me up in an ambush.

I was able to hold my own for a bit, but they eventually wore me down, knocked me out.

When I woke I was back in the village. I couldn't see much, but I knew I was in a cell of some sort – about as big as the first room I'd seen in the village. Hoa Mới came to the door and said, "Strike two." Then a guy came in and hauled me off to be tortured.

And yes, this was real torture. Red hot irons, bamboo spikes under my fingernails, the whole shebang. They didn't even speak; they just doled out my punishment, completely stone-faced and silent. I've still got scars from that.

I blacked out a lot over that next week – which is how long it took. A week of torture. I didn't know that at the time, but I figured it out.

Eventually they brought me to their infirmary area and I recovered for over a month. Saya came by every day to help with the Vietnamese lessons, but she didn't once mention the escape attempt.

Hoa Mới did, though. She visited once a week, at least, just to rub in how I'd already used up two strikes – whatever that meant – and it hadn't even been four months yet.

I spent that time steeling myself for escape attempt number three. I worked out every angle, every trick, every detail. I knew how, where, when. I even knew who they had tailing me – though 'tailing me' is an exaggeration because I was still laid up in recovery.

The first day I felt one hundred percent, I was out. I didn't even wait for Saya to come and take me back into the hut they wanted me to call home. Middle of the night, I snuck out of the infirmary and disappeared.

I did actually make it as far as China, I think. It had been more than two weeks, anyway, when they caught up with me.

(Ranma sighs heavily.)

If the fight earlier was my best in the last ten years, this was the worst. Four of them came at me, from all sides, while I slept. I managed to wake up in time and fend off the first two, but the others grabbed me and held fast.

I was NOT going back to that damn village.

I…

Look, this is still hard for me. This was a big turning point in my life.

(Ranma runs his hands down his face slowly, working up the courage to speak.)

I killed for the first time that night. Or second, if you count Saffron. Whatever.

Dead.

Was a woman, too. I didn't know it at first; it was night and I'd just been woken out of sleep.

But she was dead, sure as I'm here talking to you. I grabbed her neck and just twisted. No chance of survival. I looked down, shocked at myself, at how my hands had just moved of their own accord, and I… stared at her for a second.

Then the other three got to me and dragged me back to the village. Literally, I mean. I kicked and screamed the whole way. But when I got back...

(A full minute of silence.)

You… you have to realize that I didn't know what I was doing, what I was risking. I was scared out of my mind, every minute of every day, and I thought that they had already done their worst to me. Physical torture, mental torture – I'd survived, and they could do no worse.

Well they took me to a room in the main building and your father was there, bound and gagged.

(More gasps, and a choked sob.)

(Ranma drops his voice to a whisper.) I know. They told you he'd just disappeared, that they'd looked everywhere but couldn't find him. Well I found him. He was still alive, but they made me watch while they… they…

(Kasumi starts to sob, and Nabiki's water glass shatters in her hand.)

(Ranma slams his fist down on the table.) Damnit, I didn't know! I didn't know they would do that! Up 'till that point it had been all bluff and bluster!

(Ranma begins whispering again.) I didn't know what the strikes meant.

* * *

Nabiki lunged for Ranma and grabbed his shirt, her bloody hand dripping a trail across the table. "Are you telling me that it's your fault our father disappeared, Ranma? And answer your question very fucking carefully."

Ranma didn't even move. He simply looked back at Nabiki, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "You don't know what it's like to feel responsible for someone's death. For the last ten years, every time I close my eyes, I see Ukyo's pulverized face, or hear your father's screams. The few times I do manage to sleep I dream of…" The man turned his eyes toward the floor. He aged thirty years in the span of a few seconds. "I've done horrible things, Nabiki. You want me to rationalize, or give you excuses? I can do that. I've been telling myself those things for a long time. But I didn't come here to lie to you. So I guess the answer is yes."

Kasumi's sobs redoubled, and Akane had to grab Takeshi's shoulder to keep from fainting. "I'm impressed that you'd own up to it like that," whispered the other sister. And then she balled her good fist and started pummeling Ranma about the face and head.

Ranma didn't even try to stop her. He just took her punishment as calmly as he could. Kasumi managed a weak, "Nabiki!" but couldn't manage to dissuade the suit-clad Tendo on the table.

Nabiki eventually stopped when Ranma's nose broke a second time. Ranma dropped back to the floor, and she spoke. "I'm done with this bastard. I'm calling the police, and he's going to jail." She slid off the table and went for her purse.

Akane, pale as a ghost, stopped her. "No. Nabiki, no. Father has been gone for nine years. We've all come to terms with that in our own ways."

"But now we know what happened. Ranma and his friends kidnapped and killed him!"

Kasumi tried to speak through her tears. "Nabiki, have you been listening? I don't think he chose to have Father…" That was as far as she got before she had to bury her face into Tofu's chest.

"You're kidding me!" Nabiki's incredulous shriek cut through the night air like a knife. "You're actually defending this guy?!"

One of the men spoke up; Takeshi had taken his wife's hand and was looking to Nabiki. "We all know how important family is to you, how badly you took your father's disappearance. But Akane doesn't blame Ranma any more than she could blame me; things were out of his hands." Akane swallowed hard and nodded. "And she's the one with the most reason to hate Ranma, yes?"

Nabiki shook her head. "Et tu, Takeshi?"

"Look, everyone here is skeptical at best. But if anything he's told us so far is true, then things really were out of Ranma's hands." Ranma was cleaning off his face with his windbreaker, but managed to snort. "Not everything is his fault. Leaving Akane, throwing your family into chaos? Partly, yes. But can you honestly tell me that he _wanted_ your father to die? That if he knew what they'd do, he would have kept on trying to escape?"

"I don't put a damn thing past this insect."

"Nabiki!" Akane screamed. "How many times did Ranma save me, or any of his other friends? How many times did he save _you_?" Kasumi cried softly. "Ranma is at fault for many things, but not father. Now sit down. I want him to finish the story."

"You're shitting me," came a masculine voice. Ranma had finally managed to wipe most of the blood off of his face and had reset his nose again. "You actually want me to keep going?"

"In a minute. First, go clean yourself up. You remember where the bathroom is." The Saotome man shook his head and departed, leaving the rest of the family in the room.

"Well. I don't believe a damn bit of this story." Shin opened another packet of Pocky. "Total BS. I'm with Nabiki; I say we call the police."

Dr. Tofu spoke. "Shin, you were not here for the majority of Ranma's exploits. Neither was Takeshi, so I say this for both of your sakes: everything he has said thus far is totally within the realm of reality. Ranma has had a great deal of contact with both natural and supernatural forces. If you don't believe me, fine. There is a pitcher of water on the table, yes?" He nodded his head toward the glass carafe. "Just pour some water on him when he gets back."

Shin turned to look at Takeshi, but he shook his head. "I believe my wife. You don't."

"Fine," he mumbled around a mouthful of snacks. As he poured a glass of water, Tofu spoke again.

"Nabiki, come here, let me take a look at that hand. Do you have any gauze?"

Takeshi fetched some bandages, then busied himself with cleaning the table. Kasumi got her own emotions under control as Tofu cleaned and bandaged Nabiki's injured hand. "Nothing major, should heal up in a couple weeks. But you should be more careful. If you keep on crushing glasses in your hand like that, you might do some serious damage."

Through gritted teeth, Nabiki seethed, "Yes, I'll be sure to watch myself from now on."

Akane and Kasumi locked gazes from across the table.

Ranma walked back into the room. His nose was extremely swollen, his face was bruised, and his lip was still bleeding. He had discarded his bloody windbreaker. "Well," he started, when Shin's water hit him in the face.

Ranma's white undershirt, now soaked with water, left no doubt as to her new gender. "I see that you did not believe me, Shin." Ranma's head, now covered in vibrant red hair, shook once to rid itself of excess water. "I'll be back: I need to get another towel." And she left again, stumbling over her now too-long pants.

Shin just said, "Huh. Guess I was wrong."

"She's pretty hot as a woman." Takeshi received a belt to the side of his head for his trouble.

A few silent moments went by before the redhead sauntered back into the room. Indeed, Ranma's female body had aged rather well, still looking to be in its early twenties. The only thing that had changed, as far as the Tendos could see, was that Ranma seemed to have gained some feminine modesty. Her windbreaker was back on, but inside-out. "Sorry about that. And I'm sorry for the jacket, but I don't have any extra shirts. Even a bloody coat is better than being virtually naked at the table."

"Since when do you care about who sees your chest?" Nabiki was clearly still angry.

Gathering her hair into a ponytail, Ranma replied, "A lot has happened to me, Nabiki. And if you'll allow me to continue..."

* * *

POSTSCRIPT:

Respectable, I guess? At least I'm getting the main points across, so there's that.

It's super hard for me to complete coherent thoughts. When I speak – hell, when I think – it's all about completing six ideas at once. So you can _hear_ the commas when I speak. And as I try to refine my writing voice, I have to consciously avoid using those blasted punctuation marks. I throw in some hyphens or semicolons, but I still find that the pacing of the story gets thrown off. It's bumpy, like driving over a gravel road; some places move along just fine, and then you come to a section where the road gets bad and you have to slow to ten miles an hour.

In other words: I'm sorry that I don't have any proofreaders.

The music suggestions are new; I'm trying them out. Take it or leave it, I guess. It's just music that seems to have the same feeling as either the whole chapter or a large part of it.

Um... sweet.

POSTPOSTSCRIPT: The song I chose for listening is really a good song for the chapter, but only for the second half. So if you're actually taking my advice and listening while reading, just be patient. You'll get there.


	3. Chapter 3

Miscellaneous Debris

Chapter 3

Recommended listening: "Inertiatic E.S.P" by The Mars Volta, off of their album _De-Loused In The Comatorium_

Ver. 0.3.2

* * *

When it was over, they hauled me away to another holding cell – I was pretty familiar with the routine by then.

But I didn't try to escape that day, or the next, or even the next. I spent that three-day period sitting and staring at the wall, and remembering.

I thought of when I'd first met your father; of how accommodating he'd been when I or my rivals had destroyed his house; of you three; of Ukyo.

I didn't cry. I didn't even eat. I drank the water they gave me, but that was it.

Throughout that period, I made a decision: they'd won. I finally conceded defeat. I couldn't bear to see any more of you hurt. If that meant learning their martial arts, fine. If they wanted me to work around their village, okay. If they wanted to send me on missions or have me kill people or whatever... well, I already had blood on my hands. Anything to protect you, Akane.

(He pauses, then takes a deep breath.)

I got out and Hoa Mới spoke to me.

"Three strikes, Ranma Saotome. You're out. No more warnings, understood?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to obey us?"

"Yes."

"Any more escape attempts?"

"No."

"Good." She smiled a bit. "You need to start your training. Nghe Tốt will get you situated in the barracks, and you will begin. Good luck." And she was off.

They issued me a couple training gis and gave me a bunk in the barracks. Big, long hall filled with bunk beds, situated in the middle of the training grounds – as I said earlier, a separate area.

Very Spartan. A mattress and a footlocker for personal possessions.

And that was my life for about two years. I kept to myself, tried to stay out of trouble. I didn't make friends; I didn't want to. Fuck those guys. Brainwashed murderers, all of 'em.

I came into training head and shoulders above the rest of the students – and all but a few of the instructors – at straight hand-to-hand combat, which became readily apparent during the first few sparring matches. So they moved me to the stealth classes almost exclusively.

Focused mainly on harnessing and focusing chi to prevent detection. I also learned sleight-of-hand, disguise, traditional stuff like that.

And when I wasn't training or sparring with the masters in the dojo, I studied. Current events, languages, manners and etiquette, basic math, everything. They wanted to be sure I could integrate myself into any situation they needed.

Wait.

Um...

Well, when I said that I behaved myself, that's not entirely true. I had a few altercations.

Not with the people in charge, no. Well, okay, once or twice with Nghe Tốt.

I knew where I stood when it came to the instructors. But other students, all of whom were younger than me? Nuh-uh.

A couple of times, students close to graduation would try to boss me around. Fifteen year-old kids trying to tell me to hurry up, or wash their clothes, or do their chores, or whatever. I wouldn't take that crap, no sir.

So I'd knock them around a bit, until an instructor would show up and haul me off to the leader of the Training Council, and I'd get extra work as punishment or something.

Most kids learned their lessons right quickly, but two of them – a boy named Mohammed and a girl named Kim – continued to push and push.

And no, they didn't pal around together. That would have made it easier to avoid them. No, they hated each other.

Those two remained thorns in my side for a long time, in fact.

BUT.

Nghe Tốt was in charge of my training, as you will recall, so I sparred with him frequently. He was pretty good, but I won way more than I lost. I took those opportunities to inflict as much damage as possible while still being able to blame it on training accidents.

Come to think of it, I was in trouble a lot.

Huh.

Anyway, Saya didn't hang around much after the... incident. Guess the higher-ups didn't need a spy glued to me anymore. I saw her around here and there, but she would just nod a greeting as we passed. Didn't bother me much, really. Granted, she had been my only companionship for the first months I was there; but she was also a willing accomplice to murder, in my book. So I just left her alone. She wanted to say hello to me, fine. I wasn't going to stop her.

Two years of training, and I graduated. Well, graduated is a pretty grand term. It makes me think of the big ceremonies you guys probably had. Ours was much simpler. We were lined up in front of the Training Council - there were seventeen of us - and handed medallions. Here, this is mine. (Ranma pulls a small, circular, silvery medallion out of his shirt and shows the table. It's about the size of an American half-dollar and has a labyrinth etched into the surface with what looks to be a small pearl in the center.) Each member of the order has one. I don't know what the labyrinth means; I've heard a dozen stories, and none of them make much sense. But I do know what the thing at the center means. It's actually a pill – called a 'Minotaur,' in fact. How appropriate. (He pops it out and shows it to the table, rolls it in his hand a couple of times, and then places it back in the center of his pendant with a snap.) Poison. See, they wanted to give us an option, if for some reason we got captured or something.

Grim, right? Giving these sixteen year-olds poison pills?

So two years or so passed, and graduation time came.

The other kids were sixteen when they graduated. I was the oldest graduate at nineteen, and Saya was the youngest at thirteen. But neither of us got special recognition or anything. They just gave a speech - Nghe Tốt did - and handed us our medallions.

It was only early afternoon, but we got the rest of the day off because we were supposed to report for our first missions in the morning.

I went to the dojo and trained a bit. Practiced my forms, did some strength training, you know. When I was done I toweled off and started down toward the kitchens for dinner, but Saya stopped me about halfway there.

"Ranma Saotome." She'd grown a bit in the two and a half years since I'd arrived, but she was still very much a little girl. "Will you do me a favor?"

Now, you have to understand: this was the most she had spoken to me... well, almost ever. I stammered, "Uh, well, sure, I guess."

"There is a boy I like, Ranma Saotome, and I need to know what to say to him." She dropped her eyes to the ground and continued, "I want to tell him today, before we get our assignments. Can you tell me what to say?"

"Wow. Uh, first, just call me Ranma. 'Ranma Saotome' sounds odd." I fidgeted nervously. "Also, you really don't want to ask me; I'm not very good with relationships and stuff like that."

Her face fell. "Ah. I see. Sorry to have bothered you." She made a shallow bow and turned to leave.

"Wait!" She turned back silently. "Why would you ask me? Why not one of your friends or something?"

"Because I have no friends, Ranma Sao... Ranma."

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't help but think of how it felt to be the odd man out. I'd been that way all my life, what with Pop moving me around all the time. So I kind of felt for her, you know?

"Saya!" I called, jogging to catch up. "What do you mean you don't have any friends?"

"Just that. None of the other students want to talk to me. They think I'm strange."

Man, I tell you, hearing that jolted my conscience awake. I'd been acting the tough-guy for so long I had started to believe it myself; but I found myself actually wishing I'd been kinder to her in the past. "Ah, shit," I mumbled, running my hands through my hair.

By the by, I've picked up a bad habit of swearing, so I'm sorry about that.

"Okay, listen. I, uh, you know. I'm no good at this, so just..." I started shifting my weight between feet. "Look, Saya, you seem... nice... and all, but maybe if you tried harder?" As soon as I said it I cringed. When Saya didn't hit me, I quickly went on. "No, wait, that's not what I meant. What I MEANT was that I'm sure you're a cool person, but you just kind of sit there. I don't see you making much of an effort to get into a group of friends."

Saya's face compressed itself into a scowl. "So it's my fault that no one likes me?"

"Yes. NO! Well... kind of." I danced back a step as her brow furrowed even more. "Look, I told you I'm bad at these things! Just... I don't know, go up and talk to someone! That guy you like, just go up and say 'Hi' and, you know, go from there. That's what I do when I want to get to know people."

Saya looked at me for a long moment and I started to sweat. "All right, I will try that. Thank you, Ranma..." She stopped herself before starting my last name, but just barely.

She walked off toward the kitchen, and I decided to skip dinner and head straight for the baths. My little run-in with Saya had left me flustered.

I had the bathing spring to myself, so I spent a long time soaking. I thought about how Saya had made me feel... involved in life again. I thought that maybe I'd been wrong about not making friends.

But then some of the other graduates came in for a bath - which was just a closed-in part of a creek, basically, so the water was cold (Ranma gestures to her chest) - and I remembered why I hated those people.

"Hey, look, it's Ranma Saotome!" cried a smaller kid named Dmitri. He was the only European in the graduating class, and he hung around with two home-grown boys named Sức Mạnh and May Mắn. They hadn't been a big pain, except to other kids in training. They'd only had the one run-in with me before, and their injuries that day taught them a lesson.

Something must have changed, though, because they seemed pretty confident. He sneered, "And he's a girl!" The other boys tittered at this, until Dmitri said, "You're pretty hot as a girl, Ranma. Why don't you quit the Order and become a breeder?"

Now the village didn't really allow childbirth outside of a special sect of people called Loyalists. They were called such because they were supposedly loyal enough to the idea of the community that they gave up their roles as members of the Order so that they could provide the rest of the village with new babies. The less respectful people called them "breeders."

There were male Loyalists and female Loyalists, but mostly female. And just to clarify, there were no marriages; Loyalists were glorified prostitutes. If an active member of the Order wanted to have sex, they could either proposition another member of the Order – possibly being rejected – or apply for a visit from a Loyalist.

Yeah, I know, it's kind of sick. But I didn't make the rules.

Anyway, these kids were telling me I should go be a prostitute for the rest of my life.

So I kicked their asses. Handily.

After I was done I toweled off and went up to the kitchen to grab some hot water.

Back in my male form, I was about to head off to bed when Dmitri and his cronies came running up to me, all bloody and bruised, towing Nghe Tốt along. "He's the one! He attacked me without provocation! I'm a member of the Order now, so I demand satisfaction!"

As soon as the blond boy spoke I cursed myself. See, the rules about student interactions were different from the rules about Order member interactions. When we were students I could beat up on him all I wanted, as long as I was willing to do a little manual labor. But now that we were both members of the Order Dmitri could actually put me up for review from the Council. And any reviews the Council performed usually ended with the accused party being either killed or exiled.

For me, exile wasn't an option. So that only left death.

"Look," I started, "these guys attacked me first. I was just defending myself."

"Then why don't you have any injuries, Ranma Saotome?" Nghe Tốt looked at me, expressionless.

"Because they're weak." I smirked when Dmitri's cronies started hurling insults.

"Enough." Nghe Tốt waved the boys off, commanding silence. "Ranma Saotome, Dmitri has accused you of assault; this is a serious matter. Do you wish to say anything before the investigation commences?"

This was very, very bad.

"I wish to challenge Dmitri to a duel for honor."

That was my only option. After a person has been accused of a crime, he or she can challenge the accuser to a duel. If the accuser accepts, the winner is vindicated and the loser is shamed. I was sure I could beat him, so there was no problem. I just hoped he'd accept.

"Only if it is to the death." Dmitri glared at me with hate in his eyes and a smirk on his face, and I swore to myself.

"So it shall be." The council leader addressed us. "The duel shall be tomorrow morning. The winner shall be given one day to recover from the battle before receiving his first assignment. Dmitri, as the person accepting the challenge, you have the honor of choosing the weapons."

"Pistols."

"Bullshit!" I cried. "He's only choosing pistols because I could mop the floor with him at close range!"

"Be that as it may," replied the older man, "it is still a valid choice. Tomorrow morning after breakfast, with pistols." He turned and walked away without another word.

Some background before I get to the duel: I'm an okay marksman, but that's it. Dmitri was the best the order had ever seen.

So.

I was, for the first time in a long time, extremely nervous about a duel.

I have to hand it to Dmitri, though, that was pretty smart, getting me to issue the challenge so he could pick the weapons.

The morning came and Dmitri and I met on a small plateau in between the two complexes. We were the only ones there, except for the adjudicator.

Nghe Tốt issued the rules: any blow not coming from the weapon would result in immediate disqualification – meaning death. Stepping outside of the predetermined duel area would also result in disqualification. Dmitri and I were given our guns: Sig P220 pistols, .45 caliber, with two eight-shot magazines each. (He notices the blank stares.) Sorry. Two handguns with bullets big enough to kill in a single shot.

Then we moved to our ends of the dueling area. For pistols, it was a narrow rectangular area about three meters wide and fifty meters long.

I loaded my magazine, chambered the round, and took a deep breath.

I had to use whatever speed I could muster to close the gap quickly, and just hope that by moving from side to side I could dodge the projectiles.

A whistle came from Nghe Tốt, signaling the start of the duel.

And I was off.

I had barely started moving when Dmitri's first shot came speeding at me: right at my heart, as I expected. Luckily, I was in motion already, so the bullet missed. By the time I had gotten halfway across the field, Dmitri had fired four of his first eight shots.

My heart was pounding in my ears. Just a few more meters before I could be sure of hitting him… I wasn't so afraid of dodging the bullets as I was stepping out of bounds. That meant death just as surely as a piece of hot lead.

At perhaps three meters, Dmitri fired his eighth shot. My momentum was carrying my weight to the right, because I'd just dodged his seventh bullet, and he knew it. It hit me just above my heart, puncturing my lung and barely missing the arch of my aorta. (More blank stares from everyone but Kasumi and Tofu, whose eyes went wide.) Ask the doctor.

But he was out of bullets, and I still had a full clip. As I hit the ground I managed to squeeze off two shots at his legs, but he jumped over me – intending to gain some time and reload while I struggled to turn over, I'm sure. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and even though I couldn't breathe, I planted my left hand on the ground and launched myself backwards. As Dmitri landed and went for his clip I turned, already airborne, and mustered all the force I could to pistol-whip him in the back of the head.

It was technically a hit with the weapon, so I was safe.

Well, he crumpled, unconscious, and I landed on top of him.

From the ground I called to the arbitrator, "He is unconscious! I win!"

But Nghe Tốt shook his head. "The duel was to the death."

Struggling to my knees and trying to staunch the blood flowing from my chest, I coughed. Bloody spit splattered onto the ground. "He is at my mercy. I could kill him any time I want. The duel is over!"

"The duel is not over until one of you dies. If you do not kill him now, I fear you will succumb to blood loss before he wakes up."

"And what if I just leave?" I spat.

"Then you have stepped outside of the dueling area, and will be put to death."

I coughed again and pain shot throughout my body. I didn't have much time. Already I was getting woozy.

I cursed whatever gods of fate had brought me here.

On my knees, I looked down at Dmitri. A boy of only sixteen, yet his life was over. Or mine was. I sat there a long time, holding the pistol to his head, trying to convince myself to commit a heinous act of violence. Another series of coughs ravaged my body and darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.

As long as I was able, I knelt, thinking. There was so much going through my mind. I mean, have you ever had to choose between your life and someone else's? It's... it's really hard.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. Dmitri, though a horrible jackass, didn't deserve death. Maybe I did.

And yes, I realize how pathetic that sounds. But I had already lost everything of value in my life. I had been driven away from my home, my friends, my fiancée... Ukyo and your father had died because of me, too, and I was bleeding a lot. A lot a lot. My judgment may have been impaired.

Not an excuse, just a bit of information.

I spent another agonizingly painful minute coughing, trying to stay conscious long enough to make a decision. The pain was excruciating.

Was I willing to kill again, just to live an unhappy life?

As darkness overtook me, I smiled. "Fine. Then I concede."

* * *

I woke up, which in and of itself was unexpected.

I was in the infirmary again, and Nghe Tốt was standing over me, the morning sun shining in through the window behind him. "Good morning, Ranma Saotome, and congratulations on your victory yesterday."

Still groggy and weak, I managed to mumble, "Victory...?"

"Yes, you won. Though you passed out before pulling the trigger, it was irrelevant, because the blow you dealt to the back of Dmitri's head broke his skull. Apparently a piece of bone lodged itself in his brain, and he died almost instantly."

I closed my eyes and tried to disappear. Another life, extinguished because of me.

"There is no more time for sleep, Ranma Saotome. You must report for your first assignment."

"I don't know if you've noticed," I seethed venomously, "but I've been shot in the chest."

"True," the man mused, "but the custom is to allow a single night for rest after a duel." He spread his arms. "It is the next day, so you must report for your assignment."

I grit my teeth. "I. Am. Injured. I can barely move I'm in so much pain right now, and I feel as weak as a baby. If I can walk I will be very surprised."

Nghe Tốt just pursed his lips. "Very well. I will give you your assignment in bed. That way custom is preserved, and you can continue to rest."

"Good. Fine. Whatever." I let my head sink back into the pillow. "What is this assignment you want me to do?"

"You are to travel to Israel and aid in training their Defense Force."

It took me a minute to absorb that last sentence. "Huh? No easy warm-up mission? Just, right off the bat, send me to be an ambassador for your stupid order to one of the most controversial countries in the Middle East - a historically unstable region?"

"Correct." Nghe Tốt removed an envelope from his training gi and laid it on my chest. "Here are your instructions."

He started to walk away. "Well when am I supposed to leave?" I yelled at his back. "I can't effectively train anyone with a bullet wound!"

"It is all in there, Ranma Saotome." Looking back, he winked and smiled a dangerous smile. "And remember: if you try to escape, someone from your past life will suffer the consequences."

If I hadn't been injured, I would have leapt up and killed him right then and there.

Luckily for me I got a week to rest and recover before I had to travel to Da Nang and catch a plane to Israel. Unluckily for me, Saya came to see me that first day, a scowl on her face.

"I would have taken your advice, Ranma Saotome, but you killed Dmitri before I got a chance to speak with him." Her words were quiet but forceful.

Of course it would have been him. "Aw, hell, Saya, he's the one who started this mess. You want me to be sorry for killing him? I am. I didn't want to kill him any more than you did, but he forced the issue; and now I'll be haunted by that fact for the rest of my life." Exhausted, my temper was quite short. "I'm not a monster like you people are. When I hurt someone, I feel bad. And unlike you, when I kill someone, I die a little inside myself. So save your holier-than-thou bullshit and leave me alone. I'd like to mourn in peace."

Saya just fumed for a second before spitting in my face. "Bastard."

I wiped off her hatred as she walked out of the room.

I slept a lot over the next week, and Hoa Mới came to see me on the fifth day. "Ranma Saotome, I have not yet had a chance to congratulate you on completing your training."

"Yeah, sure," I mumbled, stretching my legs. "Listen, do you think you could get me out of this infirmary? I've been in here for days, and I really need to get some exercise."

The woman smiled. "Of course. Come, let us take a walk."

I threw on some pants, ignoring the tug of the bandages, and followed her out to the dojo. There were other students there, sparring and practicing throws. "Ranma Saotome," Hoa Mới started suddenly, "it is very important that you keep yourself safe. The Order has high expectations of you, and it would not do to go and get yourself killed."

Mesmerized by the fluid forms of the students, I replied absently, "So there really wasn't a reason to challenge Dmitri?"

"That's not true. Dmitri would have continued to hound you for the rest of your days, provided Kim kept applying pressure. The showdown was inevitable."

One of the students let out a loud cry, his forearm broken. Other students continued training as an instructor set the bone and taped it up. "Kim was the one who put Dmitri up to that?" It made sense, kind of. Dmitri had always had a thing for Kim.

"Yes. Kim feels threatened by you, Ranma Saotome, as do many of the other members of the Order." The injured student went back to sparring. "It is no surprise that she manipulated Dmitri to try and kill you. Be glad that you only escaped with a minor wound."

"Minor wound?" I snorted. "A couple centimeters lower and I'd be dead."

She waved her hand dismissively. "But it was not a few centimeters lower, was it? So you have nothing to worry about."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

We stood there silently for a little bit. "Ranma Saotome, you are an excellent martial artist and a good person; Lòng Trung Thành is extremely fortunate to have you in its ranks."

I turned to her, an incredulous expression on my face. "Is _that_ supposed to make me feel better?"

She laughed outright. "No, not especially. I just wanted to tell you that you are appreciated, even if you do not like it here. We have waited a long time for someone like you, and I fervently hope that you will be up to the task of leading this community in the following years."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Leading? No freaking way." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Listen, as soon as you guys have your backs turned, I fully intend on getting the heck out of here."

"Yes," she replied cryptically, "that is what makes you such a good leader." Hoa Mới noticed my confused expression and continued. "People who desire power become corrupted by it. True leaders do not want to lead; they lead because no one else can. The next few years will be a hard time for us, Ranma Saotome, and I believe that you are one of the few people who can help us survive." A puzzling smirk. "Though you think of us as monsters," I nodded vehemently, "you also see how we are human beings. People like Saya are more common than you want to admit to yourself, and if placed in a situation where you can either abandon us to annihilation or save lives, I am confident that you will make the right choice."

The students stopped sparring and bowed in unison. A clamor of voices sprang up, laughter flitting through the air like aural butterflies. As the voices retreated into the distance and quiet slowly reclaimed the dojo, I stared at Hoa Mới and wondered what she saw in the future.

A young woman appeared and addressed me. "Ranma Saotome, you must be ready to leave the village in two days, right after breakfast."

"I will leave you to rest some more, Ranma Saotome." The leader of the Village Council bowed and walked away, leaving me to return to the infirmary.

Even as I made my way back I couldn't shake the feeling that Hoa Mới had too much faith in me.

* * *

The day came that I had to leave. A driver I didn't know retrieved me from the infirmary. I was not allowed to bring anything but the clothes on my back.

We left in a small pickup truck and drove for what seemed like hours on a path through fields and around rock formations. We finally reached a real, paved road and continued for another long while, twisting and turning through the countryside.

As signs of civilization started to appear I became apprehensive. The information the Order had provided me was vague in certain parts. For example: if engaged in conversation on the plane, I was to say "I am an international student," and nothing more; if the passport they gave me did not check out, I was to escape and wait for them to contact me; if the Israeli delegation sent to meet me asked for identification, I was to show them my pendant.

Well what if that stuff didn't work? Was I supposed to name my supposed college, or just stop talking? If the passport didn't check out, how was I supposed to escape, and how would they contact me? If the Israelis asked me specific questions, was I supposed to tell them about the Order, or was that a big secret too?

When we finally pulled into the city it was late afternoon. Sidling up to what looked like a shopping center the driver handed me an envelope and said, "Good luck."

"Wait, what?" I stammered. "This isn't the airport."

"Instructions are in the envelope. Good luck."

I took that as my cue to exit, so I grabbed his parcel and got out. He pulled away and I found that the envelope held some papers, my plane tickets, a passport with a fake name but my picture, and a large wad of cash. There was also a note which read 'Ranma Saotome, this money is yours for the duration of your stay. Spend it as you wish, but you will get no more. I suggest purchasing some extra clothes. The assignment will last until we contact you. Good luck.' It was signed by Hoa Mới.

"Great," I muttered to myself. "This should be fantastic."

The papers held directions to the airport and travel itineraries, so I knew I had some time before my plane was scheduled to leave. I found my way to a couple of stores, bought a small suitcase and some extra clothes, toiletries, stuff like that.

At the airport they sold these little calling cards for international calls. I stared at those for a good ten minutes, trying to decide whether or not to call here.

(A deafening silence falls over the room.)

Obviously, I didn't call. That part of my life was done.

(Ranma clears his throat loudly.) Moving on.

As for the actual flights, they were TERRIBLE. Absolutely dismal.

One: I had never been on a plane before.

Two: there are no direct flights from Da Nang to Israel.

Three: the Order booked my flights without any consideration for either efficiency or personal comfort.

I had to fly from Da Nang to Singapore, and from Singapore to Istanbul, Turkey. From there I caught a flight to Israel. And the layover time! I spent a whole night in the Singapore airport, six hours in the Istanbul airport, and at least three hours just getting through customs in Israel's Ben Gurion International Airport. I was worried at first that my forged passport had been found out, but they're just really nervous people over in the Middle East.

I finally got through and went to pick up my bag. I was supposed to meet my "employers" down there, as well, so I left my medallion out.

The minute I got to the baggage claim, a man in a military uniform approached me and said in English, "Mr. Nguyen?"

That was my fake name – that was the name of every Order operative while on assignment, actually.

"Yes." This was it.

"I am Sá'al Issachar Harpaz. You may call me Lieutenant Colonel Harpaz."

"Sung Nguyen. Nice to meet you." We shook hands.

"I will let you get your things, then we should get going. We have a long drive ahead of us."

I groaned inwardly. Of course we had a long drive. Why should I be done traveling?

On the way to Jerusalem I got an idea of what they wanted me to do. It was just Lieutenant Colonel Harpaz, myself and a driver in the truck, but he spoke in hushed tones nonetheless.

"Mr. Nguyen, I am sure you are familiar with our system of fighting, Krav Maga." I indicated that I was and he continued. "Good. Then you know how effective it is in close combat, but also how it ignores both stealth and qui manipulation."

"Chi," I corrected him.

"Chi, qui, we don't use either. What I want you to do, Mr. Nguyen, is train my Krav Maga instructors in the arts of chi and stealth. But there is a catch."

"Always," I snorted.

The Lieutenant Colonel cast a critical eye at me, but continued, "Yes, there is. You must not let anyone else know what it is that you are doing. We are a Jewish state. Our God does not take kindly to mystical energy. If word were to get out what you were doing, you and I would both be exiled – at best."

"Wait." Scratching my head, I leaned forward. "If your religion does not allow this thing, then how do you know about it? And why do you want me to teach your people?"

He turned in the front seat, hiding his face from me. "God has given up on me, Mr. Nguyen, and I on Him. I simply wish for my forces to be among the best trained in the world, and if that means teaching them how to harness mystical energy, so be it."

We exchanged no more words until we arrived in Jerusalem.

They housed me in a military compound, though not in the barracks. I had a small apartment or something to myself. Extremely fancy, compared to what I was used to.

I got situated and went right to sleep. The next day I began teaching. No time to recover from jet-lag.

I taught five one-hour classes six days a week, with around twenty students in each class – hardened military men and women who had been told to report for "extra training."

The first week I wanted to see what these people could do. You really don't know how to teach someone about chi until you learn how they fight. What I found was interesting, if not necessarily good. Krav Maga, if you are familiar with the discipline, emphasizes real-world combat rather than forms and movements. The whole purpose of the art is to disable or kill your opponent as quickly as possible; no fancy moves necessary. Naturally, the majority of my students relied on strength over speed or agility.

Of course, that first week also gave me some time to think of a way to teach these people about chi without offending their god.

I ended up doing some meditation with them at the start of the second week, telling them (Nabiki clears her throat loudly.) Ah, right. Sorry. You don't care about martial arts as much as I do.

Well.

Suffice it to say that I figured out a way to do it, and they caught on as well as could be expected.

When I _wasn't_ training, Nabiki, I did some meditation on my own. Occasionally I went out into Jerusalem, just to see the city.

It really is a beautiful place.

The Wailing Wall is... awe-inspiring. And I'm not even Jewish. And the Dome of the Rock is breathtaking, too. It's very different from Japanese architecture.

But during my two months in Israel I witnessed the other side of the place, too. I gang beatings, demonstrations, even a suicide bombing.

The first incident happened a couple days or so after I arrived. I had taken my first trip into the city and stopped at a small café to get a bite to eat. As soon as I paid, a group of about seven young men – around twenty years old, I'd say – started hassling this middle-aged gentleman. I looked around to see if there were any police, and when I looked back, they had already started in on the older man.

You don't get involved in someone else's fight, but I couldn't just stand there and let these seven guys beat someone to death. I quickly scanned the streets again, looking for a police officer or something, when the fight broke up. The men scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving behind a broken body.

No one else seemed inclined to help, so I jogged over and tried to see if he was all right. I managed to get there just in time to hear his death rattle; one of the other men had stabbed him in the throat with a knife.

From what I heard, the older man was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A couple of weeks later there were a series of attacks from the Pro-Palestinian forces in the area. I got woken up in the middle of the night by a giant explosion. As quickly as I could I got dressed and ran outside into the jaws of chaos.

A building just across the street was half-gone; one of the walls had caved in and anyone who could still move was trying to jump out their windows to get away from the flames. People were barking orders at no one in particular, yelling in Hebrew, trying to make sense of what had happened.

The building had been a housing complex, a series of three- and four-person rooms occupied at the moment by temporary residents of the base – namely, my students.

I raced across the street and started searching the wreckage for survivors. The front door was still partially in tact. Belching smoke, but in tact. I took a deep breath, held it, and plunged in.

The smoke was so thick I could barely see, but my ears worked just fine. Off to my left I could hear screams for help – or so I assumed, not knowing any Hebrew. I made my way down the hallway slowly, carefully, stepping over the body of a male student named Binyamin, finally reaching a closed door. I tried the handle. Locked.

"Heads up, I am coming in!" I yelled in English, and I kicked down the door.

Inside were two men. One had been crushed when the ceiling had caved in, but the other was only trapped. "All right, just hold on. I am coming."

"Abell, is he all right?"

I didn't have the heart or the time to tell him. "I can not see."

It took some work to get his legs out from under the wreckage, but I managed eventually. "All right, grab onto my shoulders." His legs were useless, so I had to carry him outside. The acrid smoke sent me into a fit of coughing, but I managed to make it outside with the soldier still in my arms.

A medic took him from me and another started to lead me toward an ambulance, but I waved him off. "No way cough cough there are cough still people in-" I damn near doubled over from coughing so hard; and of course I had just recently been shot in the left lung, so that felt pretty nice.

"No, you have done more than enough. Let us handle the rest." Lieutenant Colonel Harpaz appeared out of nowhere. He spoke to the medic in Hebrew for a moment before turning back to me, a stone-cold anger behind his eyes. "You will go with this man here, Mr. Nguyen, and tomorrow I will find whoever did this."

Even if I hadn't been coughing so hard I though I would die, his tone of voice left no room for argument.

* * *

It turned out that the Lieutenant Colonel actually wanted me to come along with him. He had assembled a group of twenty-five or so people, including myself. I was dressed as usual, wearing… well, what I'm wearing now, basically. Harpaz tried to get me to put on a vest and take weapons. When I refused, he said, "Mr. Nguyen, this city is very different from where you grew up. Put on this vest or you will die. Take this gun or one of us will die."

So I shrugged on the heavy vest and took the shotgun he gave me. He was insistent, and I was working for him after all.

We piled into a series of jeeps. "So do you know who it is?" I asked after we had been traveling for a while.

"Of course I do. People who do things like that tend to take credit for their atrocities."

"Wait, you mean they _told_ you it was them?"

"Yes." We took a corner too sharply and I slammed into the door of the vehicle. "They sent us a tape this morning. Slow down," he barked to the driver, "this is a residential area!"

That was just amazing to me. "Why would they do that? Do not they know that you will come after them?"

"They're terrorists, Mr. Nguyen. They don't care if they die. They want us to leave, and the more press they get, the better, as far as they're concerned."

We screeched to a halt. "This is the place?" We had stopped in front of a seemingly deserted apartment complex.

"Yes. The others know the plan, so just follow me. They'll be expecting us, but try to take as many alive as possible."

Lieutenant Colonel Harpaz spoke into the jeep's radio as we jumped out of the vehicle.

Where we had ended up was a small trio of buildings, maybe ten stories high, arranged in a U-shape with a courtyard in the middle. There was debris everywhere, but no people.

Everyone ran to grab cover. An eight-man team moved into the courtyard, toward the center building, when an old woman came out from one side. She started screaming at them in Hebrew, the soldiers raised their weapons and started screaming back, and things escalated quickly.

A young man ran out from the third building, behind the team on point, and sped toward them. One of the other soldiers saw him and got a few shots off, but the boy had gotten close enough.

He screamed something and exploded.

After that the day went steadily downhill.

When the smoke cleared I could see two of the soldiers in the courtyard screaming and trying to crawl for cover; their bodies were charred messes. Two others were crumpled about five meters away. Then the gunfire came from all around us; there were probably five gunmen with automatic weapons, in the higher levels of the buildings. We were a shooting gallery to them.

Harpaz barked orders and everyone sprang into action. Some people ran into the building on the right and the Lieutenant Colonel led me and some others into the second building. I could see that a third group charged into the courtyard.

I checked to see that my shotgun was loaded as we ran up the stairs. This was easily scarier than anything I'd ever done before.

The first landing, Harpaz stopped and waved me up to him. "We send three people in and wait for the all clear. Get it?"

"Yes."

"Good." He raised his hand to signal someone else but had to duck back against the wall to avoid gunfire. "Grenade!" he yelled in English. There were no doors in this stairwell, just a corner around which one of the men lobbed an explosive. We all ducked down and something caught my eye.

A pipe bomb sailed toward us.

Instinctively, I snatched it out of the air and threw it back around the corner. The grenade exploded somewhere, followed by the pipe bomb. I cringed and ducked back down, but thankfully I hadn't gotten hit with any of the shrapnel.

A soldier called to me in Hebrew, a smile on his face.

"No time for conversations! Go!" The Lieutenant Colonel's order was immediately carried out.

A three-man team raced into the corridor. I could hear yelling, then a series of gunshots. Two automatics went off, followed by a chorus of shotgun blasts. Silence draped over the scene for a moment before, "All clear!"

Lieutenant Colonel Harpaz and the other three of us sped off, our guns at the ready.

Children were crying in some of the apartments. Three doors had been kicked in further down the hallway and my employer went into the first one. A grim scene greeted us when we caught up.

Two dead men lay on the ground. "Survivors?"

Hebrew assaulted my ears. It is not a very pretty language.

"Casualties?"

"None."

"Good. We've got more ground to cover." Harpaz rushed back out into the hallway and we followed.

Back into our seven-man team we ascended to the next staircase, but there was no one there.

We made it up to the fourth floor before we encountered any more resistance. Another peppering of gunfire greeted us as we approached the landing. Harpaz threw a grenade, it exploded, and we were off again. This time, though, the terrorists were ready for us.

A sergeant or something was the first into the hallway and he got torn up by a barrage of bullets. Everyone else grabbed what cover they could find in the stairwell as the sergeant hit the ground, dead.

Some Hebrew swearing, before, "Grenades! Suppressing fire!"

An idea struck me. "Wait! Give me time!"

"I am in charge!" hollered Harpaz. "Grenades!"

"Just give me a minute! We can save ammunition!"

More gunfire hit the wall above us. "One minute." He held up a single finger for emphasis.

Remember when Pop and Happosai faced off with their battle auras, and it made the news? Well that's basically what I did. I projected my aura into the hallway, about twice my regular size. It drew some gunfire at first, but as I sent it down the hall it drew even more screams.

"Go."

The squad moved but I had to concentrate, so I stayed behind. They managed to capture three of the terrorists while securing the area; the rest fled upstairs.

When our floor quieted down enough, we could hear gunshots and explosions from the other two buildings. "I hope they're all right," I muttered to myself.

"No time for chit-chat, Nguyen." Harpaz led all but two of us back into the stairwell – the one dead comrade and one soldier to guard the hostages. Nothing was abnormal until we reached the top level of the building; we swept all the rooms on the lower floors but found no signs of enemy combatants. Terrified women and children, yes. But no bad guys.

Then we reached the top.

There were no signs of opposition at first. As far as we could tell, everyone had disappeared. We started down the left side of the hallway, intending to clear rooms one at a time to be sure we didn't miss anyone. When we finished the first room and went across the hallway to the right side, the door exploded outward with gunfire. Miraculously, the man who was in front of the door only got grazed in the thighs and side, but he still went down hard.

As if on cue, three more doors down the hall opened up, releasing four screaming men with guns.

Harpaz and the other able-bodied soldiers sprinted across the hallway and dove back into the first room we'd cleared. I thought I saw Harpaz get shot in the hip, but I wasn't sure.

As for me, I unloaded a shell into the door in front of me and hurled my body through. I'd managed to clip the asshole who'd shot my squad-mate, but only in the shoulder. When I burst through the door I saw him sprawled on the ground, his rifle on the floor in front of me, scrambling to get his feet under him. I kicked him square in the chest then knocked him out with the butt of my shotgun.

Gunfire was still raining down the hallway, so I hurried to the door and grabbed the downed man by his shirt collar, hauling him bodily into the small apartment. He'd been hit again while on the ground, mostly in his Kevlar vest. Only one bullet had managed to find his thigh, which still left him bleeding pretty badly. "All right, think you can to watch this," I motioned to the unconscious man, "until I get rid of others?"

"Of course." I ended up dragging him around the corner and into the living room just in time, as a grenade landed in the entryway and exploded not one second later. My ears were ringing, my nerves tingled with the force of the explosion, and I could see that the man I'd knocked out was now very much dead. I could feel the footsteps approaching through the floorboards, and I managed to train my gun on the wall just before me.

I ended up nailing one of the two guys in the chest, sent him flying into the wall, dead before he'd had time to react. The second man dove to avoid my second shot and sprayed a barrage of bullets as he hit the ground. I got hit twice, in the vest, but managed to keep my balance.

Really mad by this point, I uncoiled my legs as powerfully as I could, launching myself at this bastard. He didn't even get to adjust his aim before I'd tossed his gun aside and crushed his windpipe with my fist.

He coughed blood onto my forearm before he shuddered and died; I barely even noticed.

Of course, now that I have time to think about it, I can't help but remember the fear in his eyes as he clutched his throat.

(A pause.)

Anyway. "You still all right?" I screamed back at the other soldier, or at least I think I did. I couldn't hear anything at that point.

He was watching me, thankfully, and managed to mouth "What?" – I think – which told me all I needed to know.

"WAIT HERE!" I screamed over the ringing in my head. He nodded, and I was off again.

After making sure the hallway was devoid of terrorists I sprinted to the Colonel's room.

The same thing had happened in there, apparently. One of the white-clad assailants was dead on the ground; one of the soldiers was bleeding to death in the corner; and the other four occupants were locked in hand-to-hand combat. "Hands in the air or you die!" I screamed down the barrel of my shotgun.

At first it seemed like no one had heard me, but soon Harpaz and the other soldier had their terrorists on the ground and in handcuffs. I rushed over to the corner to see if I could help the wounded man, but it was too late.

I punched through the wall, incensed. Why did so many people have to die that way? What could possibly be worth this?

A hand on my shoulder whirled me around. The man in charge said something to me that I couldn't make out. "What?" I screamed. My ears were still ringing from the grenade.

He said something else I couldn't understand. "I can not hear you! A grenade, across the hall!" I pointed to the room containing the wounded soldier. "One of our guys is still alive in there!"

The Lieutenant Colonel patted me on the shoulder appreciatively before making his way across the hallway. We found that our man was still alive, though definitely worse for the wear. I helped him down the stairs and we picked up the last member of our squad, along with the prisoners. We forced them out in front and when we got back outside we found the other two squads waiting for us. Of all twenty-five people who stared the mission, only twelve were left alive, none without injuries of some sort.

Colonel Harpaz went over to one of the trucks were a man was on the radio. They exchanged words for a few seconds before a convoy of jeeps and ambulances arrived.

I passed off my cohort to one of the medics and turned to walk back to Lieutenant Colonel Harpaz, but another medic grabbed my arm and said something to me. I had started to get my hearing back a little bit, but it was still relegated to ringing and muffled grunts. "I can't hear!" I shouted. The man just pointed to my leg, which was bleeding. I hadn't even noticed; some of the shrapnel from that grenade had found its way into my leg.

They took me off to the chuck wagon and we wound our way slowly toward the base.

* * *

"So did they know about your curse?" asked Shin suddenly.

"Huh? Who? The Israelis?"

"Yeah. Did they know you turn into a girl?" Shin's Pocky was gone and he had moved onto pretzels.

Ranma clasped her hands and rested them on the table. "No, that region of the world doesn't receive very much rainfall, and I had my own bathroom, so it wasn't a big deal. I was able to stay male for most of the time."

Shin swallowed a mouthful before continuing, "But what about the blood?" Nabiki and Akane frowned, but Tofu leaned forward, interested. "You said you got blood on you, right? Well isn't blood mostly water? So didn't you change?"

Tofu chimed in, "Yes, I was curious about that, too. Do you know how much water must be in a liquid before it changes you?"

Frustrated, Ranma sighed heavily. "No, look, I don't know how this curse works any more than I did years ago. I haven't really had the time or energy to sit around and douse myself with liquids of varying temperatures and chemical compositions to see what changes me."

"So you didn't change?"

"No, Shin, I did not change. Can I get back to the story, please?"

"Could you wait a moment, please?" interjected Kasumi. "I have to use the rest room."

As she got up to leave, Shin and Nabiki stood as well. "We'll be right back, too. I need to have a chat with my husband." Nabiki led Shin off, an unreadable expression on her face.

Ranma began to play with her hair again, fashioning it into a braid. "All right, then." Akane smiled at Ranma hesitantly, and Tofu took a sip of water.

"So, Akane, do you have any children?"

Takeshi covered for his blushing wife. "No, Ranma, we have decided to wait for a while yet."

"Why?" Finished with her braid, she pulled it apart and started over.

"We just want to have a little more money saved up before we start a family. Isn't that right, Akane?" She nodded silently.

"Seems sensible. Tofu, how about you and Kasumi? Any children?"

The Doctor's face froze. Akane gasped and Takeshi coughed uncomfortably. "No, Ranma, we do not have any children." Tofu glanced at the doorway to make sure Kasumi was not there. "We're... unable to conceive."

Ranma's hands froze and her gaze softened. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

The comment was waved off. "No, no need to be sorry. It's not a secret or anything. It's just kind of a touchy subject. Please don't mention it to Kasumi."

"Of course."

Shin and Nabiki walked back into the room just as Kasumi returned. "What was that about, Nabiki?" Akane eyed her sister warily. "Plotting to kill Ranma?"

"Yes, actually, but that's not why we left. I just needed to have some words with Shin about his... questions."

"She told me to shut my fat mouth." Nabiki kicked her husband in the knee but he just continued, "And also that I shouldn't be fooled by Ranma's charming exterior, that he's a selfish bastard."

"Why did I even bother to take you into the next room?" fumed the middle Tendo Sister.

Shin smirked.

"Anyway, I'd like to hear more of this story." Kasumi and the rest sat down once more.

"Back to Israel, then."

* * *

POSTSCRIPT: Thanks to Weebee and (anonymous) for pointing out inaccuracies.

Any further corrections on military procedures, Israeli military ranks, flight plans and schedules, etc., please post a comment or email me directly.

Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Miscellaneous Debris

Chapter 4

Recommended listening: "Ruiner" by Nine Inch Nails, off of their album _The Downward Spiral _(Warning: explicit lyrics)

Alternate listening: "If We Panic, We Die!" by the Organ Donors, off of their album _Nervous By Nature_

Ver. 0.3.2

* * *

The, uh, the wound in my leg wasn't too terribly bad. Like I said, I wouldn't have even noticed it if the medic hadn't pointed it out. They patched me up and would have sent me on my way were it not for the hearing loss. They kept me overnight just to make sure that I didn't die from brain damage or something, I think. I guess I don't really know the procedure for hearing loss.

The next morning I found that my hearing hadn't gotten much better. The muffled grunts got a little louder, but I couldn't make out any actual words yet. I changed and walked out of the hospital, which apparently didn't bother anyone, since I didn't get stopped.

See, the strange thing is that when I got back to my apartment and washed my face, I turned into a girl – of course. Well that wasn't the strange part. When it happened, my hearing got better immediately. Don't get me wrong, I could still only make out static, basically, but the static was much much louder.

One thing I've noticed over the years is that my female body heals much more quickly than my male body. If I have a broken arm or something it's going to stay broken no matter how many times I change back and forth between sexes; but small cuts and bruises disappear, I can shake off any amount of alcohol instantly, and major wounds tend to heal more quickly. Must be something to do with the magic.

(She touches her nose hesitantly) Yeah, see, the swelling is already starting to go down.

But that's as much as I know. (Ranma nods to Dr. Tofu.) If you want to write a paper on Jusenkyo or something, go somewhere else for info.

I took that day and the next off because so much had happened, and also the base was on lockdown. Even if I had wanted to teach they wouldn't have let me.

By the third day my hearing had more or less come back. It still wasn't one hundred percent, but I could actually hold conversations again, which was a plus.

I woke up that morning and did some forms in my small living room. A knock came suddenly, which was supremely odd, since I had gotten used to waking up around 5:00 AM in order to exercise before teaching classes.

It turned out to be the Lieutenant Colonel. His face made a peculiar sort of twitch when I opened the door. "Is this a bad time?"

"No," I replied, "why?" He glanced meaningfully at my chest. I wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes and had worked up a good sweat by that time. "Oh, no, no, I am exercising. Please come in, I will put on a shirt."

I jogged back to my room to get dressed. When I returned, Harpaz was standing in the middle of the living room, just looking around, holding a paper bag. "So, uh, how are you?" I offered lamely.

"Fine, Mr. Nguyen. I was not injured badly." His hand went to his hip.

"Ah, I thought I saw you get shot. You heal quickly." It didn't even look like he was limping.

His smile caught me off guard, as he did not smile much. "The bullet glanced off of my sidearm, so I was only bruised, thankfully. Though it was a waste of a good pistol."

"Good." There was a strange hesitancy about my boss that morning, something which clashed with his generally assertive nature. "Um, would you like a glass of water?"

"Oh, no, thank you. No, the reason I came to see you, Mr. Nguyen, was to thank you for saving my life and the lives of my men." The hardened military man reached into his paper bag and pulled out a bottle of liquor. "I realize it is not much when compared to human lives, but I am afraid that this was all I could think of to thank you."

Not wanting to be rude, I took the bottle from him and looked it over. "What is it?"

"It is a fifty-year old, single-malt, Islay Scotch from a now defunct distillery. Excellent nose and as smooth as silk."

I inhaled so sharply I actually started coughing. "Fifty years?!" I exclaimed, re-examining the bottle in my hands. "I can not take this. It must have been very expensive." Suddenly nervous I thrust the item back into his hands.

"Please, take it." He gently pushed the gift back towards me. "As I said, it is nothing as compared to a life." When I finally set the bottle down, he continued, "Again, I apologize for the paltry offering, but I'm afraid that I am not a man for luxuries."

"I work for you. I was doing my job."

His gaze hardened. "No, Mr. Nguyen, you went out of your way to ensure that people you barely knew made it out of that building alive. In fact, it was unacceptable of me to force you on the mission in the first place, but you took it all in stride. I only wish I had a better way to thank you." Although there's no proof, I think I saw him wipe a tear out of his eye, then. "Also, that boy you pulled out of the fire is the son of a good friend of mine. My friend died many years ago, but I promised him that I would look after the boy." His gaze locked with mine for a long minute.

I laughed and scratched my head nervously. "Well thank you, I guess."

The Lieutenant Colonel offered his hand. "No, thank you."

We shook hands that day, for the last time. As a Lieutenant Colonel, he wasn't supposed to actually put himself in danger's way. For punishment he got reassigned to a tactical position elsewhere in the base, and I didn't get a chance to see him again.

I heard that he died a few years ago in another suicide bombing.

And... well that's all that I have to say about Israel.

* * *

Akane leaned forward, her arms crossed on the table. "Huh? What about the rest of the training?"

Ranma's tone remained neutral. "The training went... fine. I got out of there after the two month mark passed, and went onto my next mission."

"What really happened, Ranma?" A dangerous gleam appeared in Nabiki's eye and she pointed a finger at the redhead's clenched fists. "I can tell there's more."

"Nabiki, don't push Ranma. If he doesn't want to tell, he doesn't have to." Kasumi turned a kind smile onto the martial artist. "What was your next mission, Ranma?"

Ranma grit her teeth and sighed. "No, Nabiki is right, I should really tell you the rest. Though it's not very important, and it is fairly unhappy," she added with a glare toward Shin's wife.

"I continued teaching, and I made some friends among the students there. They are good people, the Israelis, or at least the ones I met were." Ranma flipped her braid over her shoulder, allowing the hair to fall loose again, and interlaced her fingers. "The day before the final lesson, or what I thought was going to be the final lesson, I received word from the Order that I had to leave immediately. My next mission was waiting, and was more important than the last day of training.

"I didn't really have a choice. So I told my new boss the deal and got driven to the airport. A day or two later I caught a news program on TV, and it showed the aftermath of a second push by the Palestinians. I saw a couple of my students – my friends dead on the ground." She took a breath and ploughed ahead. "There was a firefight somewhere in the city, and they got assigned to the convoy that was supposed to relieve frontline soldiers. Well the convoy got hit by explosives on the way, and..." Ranma shifted her shoulders. "If I'd stayed for the extra lesson, they wouldn't have had to go out on the trucks. They wouldn't have died."

Takeshi allowed Ranma a moment to recover before speaking. "Well, I'm no expert on military tactics, but it seems to me that even if you had been there, they would have gone out anyway. I mean, you just got done telling us how you were dragged along on a mission, and you're not even in their army." Nods of assent came from all sides of the table.

"Believe me, I've thought of that. It doesn't make me feel any better."

Akane's voice was hesitant. "So Ranma, what was your next assignment?" She was obviously trying to change the subject.

"I assassinated the Chariman of the Board of Directors for Sony."

Shin and Nabiki – who had been taking drinks of water – sprayed it all over the table.

"No, not really. Would have been an interesting story, though, huh?" Ranma smiled an arrogant smile, and Akane's heart beat a little faster.

"Why would you do that?" Nabiki started to wipe the front of her suit. "This is a brand new suit!"

"I needed something to cheer me up. Sorry."

"It's just water, Nabiki. Please, continue, Ranma," smiled Kasumi, a little too sweetly.

Ranma cleared her throat and continued.

* * *

I didn't assassinate anyone from Sony, but I did end up getting sent to kill someone.

The Order got me a plane ticket to England. I caught a few connection flights in there, but I can't remember how many. At first I was really tired, and then I caught wind of the... attacks in Israel, so...

Eventually I ended up in London. My instructions were to meet an intelligence operative. She was supposed to make contact with me at my hotel, so I caught a cab from the airport, checked in, and waited. I decided against taking a nap, even though I really wanted to. My contact could have showed up at any time.

It only took a couple of hours for her to make contact. As I waited in my room, staring at the wall, I decided on two things: one, I had to mail you guys the money I had left over from Israel. (Nabiki spits all over the table again, and starts coughing.) Yes, that was me, and no, I don't need to be thanked. It was literally the least I could do. I only hope it helped. After all, 300,000 Yen isn't a whole lot.

(Akane incredulously asks, "How did you have that much money 'left over'?")

Well, the Order likes to keep its people happy. When people get sent on missions, the Order usually grants them a stipend from the communal coffers. Since I didn't spend that much money, I sent mine back to you guys.

(Kasumi quietly thanks Ranma with tears in her eyes.)

Sure, no problem. (Ranma clears his throat, embarrassed.)

So, the second thing I decided was that I needed to make friends. All this obsessing over Akane was bad; I couldn't see you again, end of discussion. I needed people to help me get over you.

But things don't always work out the way you want them to.

The door opened.

"Saya?"

"Hello, Ranma." She closed the door and bowed. "Good to see you again."

I bowed back. "What the hell are you doing here?" Then it hit me like Akane's mallet. "Wait, you're my intelligence contact?"

"Yes." A file folder flopped onto the bed. "You will find the details of the mission in that folder. I must rest; my flight was long and I am tired."

As she opened the door to leave I managed to spurt, "What about Dmitri?" Classy.

She froze. "I realize it was not your doing. I was wrong to have blamed you. I am sorry." Then she was gone.

I took a hot shower to clear my head and turn back into a guy. Whenever Saya showed up, I seemed to get flustered. (Nabiki smirks predatorily.) Shut it. It wasn't like that.

After I got out I steeled my resolve and opened the folder. What I saw was unexpected, to say the least.

What I first noticed was that I had to kill someone. That left me so shocked and angry that I had to close the folder and just sit for a while.

Later, I managed to read more about my mission: I was to kill a U.S. Government employee named John Bower. Apparently the CIA suspected him of funneling secret documents to the Chinese, or something, but they couldn't manage to catch him red-handed. Fed up, they'd hired us to kill him. Better to eliminate a potential security risk, blah blah blah.

I always thought it was kind of funny that they didn't just do it themselves.

But anyway, he lived in Fairbanks, Alaska, in the U.S. The plane was scheduled to leave the next day, so I turned out the light and tried to get some sleep.

I stared at that ceiling all night, trying to convince myself that I wasn't a bad person for doing this.

The morning came, Saya knocked on my door, and we made our way to the airport without speaking to each other. She was supposed to come with me, as she was the only one who knew exactly where the man lived. "Why don't you just tell me, and I can go by myself?" I asked Saya in the taxi.

"Standard operating procedure, Ranma. The fewer people who know something, the smaller chance there is of a security breach." She stared out the window, rain slowly tracing lines down the glass.

I ran my hand through my hair. "Fine, but when we get there, you follow me. I'm the one who's doing this thing, and you have to trust me."

"Fine."

Saya and I had been given new passports. We were traveling as a college student and his younger sister, so things went pretty smoothly overall.

The flight was super long, and I got pretty restless after a while. I tried to sleep, but no chance of that happening. I still wasn't too comfortable on planes.

So we got to Fairbanks, checked into a hotel, and Saya gave me the rest of the run down.

"John Bower is an obsessive-compulsive agoraphobe who works from home. His house has very advanced security systems, including infra-red sensors, motion sensors, and a state-of-the-art system that can detect any change in air pressure – meaning if you open a door or a window while it is active, you will be discovered.

"Tonight is his monthly delivery of foodstuffs. You must find a way inside the house without being detected, wait until the opportunity presents itself, and then kill him. It has to look like an accident."

"Why all the urgency? If he doesn't leave his house, can't we take our time? I mean, we know where he's going to be."

Saya frowned at me. "Our contractor wants him eliminated before tomorrow morning. We do not ask questions."

"Fine, fine." I turned on the television and propped a pillow behind my head. "When does this delivery happen? And do you have blueprints, so I can figure out how to get inside?"

She shook her head and handed me my shoes. "No. The only way into the house is through the garage.

"Every month he receives a shipment of food and other necessities. However, being obsessed with security, he only allows the deliverymen into his garage – which has a separate set of systems, so he can deactivate them without compromising the security in the rest of his house.

"He stays inside his little fortress until the delivery is complete, after which we imagine he moves the items into his house proper. We don't know for sure, though; our employers can't even get any surveillance equipment inside.

"His delivery is scheduled in three hours. We must make our way to the house and await the delivery."

The TV turned off with a muffled click. "So you expect me to just waltz in there without anyone seeing me, evade security systems that I don't even know about, and manage to kill this guy while making it look like an accident?"

"Yes. Now get dressed. We have to go."

The government has an air force base outside of Fairbanks proper, and this guy's house was located just off of the base's property. Moose Creek was the name of the town.

The Order had arranged for transportation in the form of another operative, who picked us up from our hotel and drove us – with directions from Saya - for a little less than 45 minutes until we reached Moose Creek.

He pulled into the rear of a gas station, being careful to avoid the security camera. Saya said, "This is it, Ranma. I will accompany you to the house, then you will enter. I will return with the driver tomorrow morning to pick you up."

"Follow me to the house. I'm in charge, remember?"

Saya smirked a bit. "Okay."

When we exited the vehicle, it pulled out front to get gas – hide in plain sight, as it were. Saya led me into the trees – there are SO MANY TREES in Alaska! – and we made our way through to the guy's house. We had to travel via treetop, actually, because we didn't want to leave any trails.

We eventually came to a small house, in a small clearing, mostly isolated from the rest of the town. "This is it, Ranma. Good luck."

"Wait!" I whispered before she could bolt. "When are you going to pick me up? And how am I going to make it out of the house without setting off any of the alarms? And is this for real?"

"Tomorrow morning, at the gas station; make sure you watch him when he activates the security systems; yes. Good luck, Ranma."

"Well, shit," I muttered to myself.

I had to wait a half an hour before the delivery truck arrived. The short, stubby yellow truck rattled and sputtered as it pulled into the driveway. Two guys got out and started unloading. I figured that this was my only chance.

I cloaked my chi using the Umi-Sen Ken and disguised my physical appearance with a technique I learned in Vietnam.

It's best to show you how it works rather than explain it. (Ranma closes her eyes, then disappears, causing exclamations from around the table. She reappears a second later.) Basically it bends light around you, so you appear invisible.

So with my chi and my body invisible, I attained the Soul of Ice to erase any heat I'd give off, and I started toward the house.

It was summer, so there wasn't any snow on the ground. It had rained the night before, though, so I left a very visible trail.

Virtually invisible, I approached the driveway, but stopped just before I stepped onto the property. I realized I'd leave wet footprints.

The garage door opened suddenly, and the delivery personnel started wheeling in handcarts full of stuff. I didn't have a whole lot of time.

I made my way around to the corner of the garage and took off my shoes and socks, making sure to step barefoot on the pavement. After that I had to figure out how to hide my footwear. There weren't any bushes or rocks or anything, so I eventually decided to wrap them in my shirt and bring them with me.

So, shoeless and in my undershirt, I snuck into the garage just as the last load of items was being dropped off. The garage door closed and I looked around the room, trying to figure out how I could make my way through the single door into the house without my mark noticing me.

The door opened and he stepped out. He was wearing a surgical mask, heavy gloves, and what appeared to be a smock. "Filthy filthy filthy," he muttered, placing an air purifier into the center of the room. He continued by dabbing some chemical onto a cloth and wiping down every surface of the boxes. "Filthy filthy filthy."

He was pretty preoccupied, so I managed to stealthily make my way over to the wall next to the door.

He continued to wipe for a long time – he actually wiped each box down three times, discarding used cloths into a trash bag he'd brought along and using a fresh one each time.

Eventually he went to the door inside and propped it open, which was all I needed.

When he went back to grab a box I slipped into the house.

The room I found myself in was actually a small entryway, with a heavy door in front of me and the garage behind me. It was small, so I couldn't really stay on the floor as the guy started to stack boxes in the room. But if I moved again, I'd make noise.

I controlled my breathing and bided my time.

The boxes were taking up most of the room before I got my chance to move. He dropped one of the boxes accidentally, and I leapt up to the ceiling to prop myself in the corner.

"Damnit damnit damnit!" he cried, his voice muffled by his mask.

I waited up there for a long time. He must have wiped down the box again, because it was ten minutes before he deposited it where I had previously been standing.

Eventually the entryway was almost full and John Bower retrieved his air purifier, closed the door to the garage, and moved to a keypad on the wall. I instantly focused all my attention on his fingers as they zipped around. Near as I could tell the sequence was 1-4-8-9.

Next he inched his way around the perimeter of the room to a second keypad and typed in 2-9-7-1. He then moved back to the first keypad and deactivated the garage security, then activated the house security, then repeated a third time.

He propped open the door into the house and started carrying things inside. I waited until the room was a bit emptier before lowering myself to the floor as quietly as I could. I had to carry my soggy shirt-full in my mouth.

I slipped into the house. Blankets hung over the windows, blotting out any light. Two light bulbs pierced that artificial darkness: one up a small flight of stairs, and one just inside the doorway.

When he got inside he took off his gloves and surgical mask before turning on the kitchen light. He dropped his cleaning supplies in the trash bag and then moved to the stove, where he turned on the hood fan and put the bag in a large metal pot. He proceeded to burn the bag and all of its contents.

So this guy was pretty nuts, I could tell already.

His house wasn't furnished, at least not downstairs. He had hardwood floors that looked to be immaculately clean, but no actual places to sit.

I stood there, basically invisible, for another hour as he unpacked and meticulously organized his haul of goodies. My package was in danger of dripping onto the floor, so I had to take off my undershirt and wrap that around the bundle – without making any noise, no less.

I wish I'd thought about the whole shoe issue, really.

He finished organizing, turned off the lights and moved upstairs, my following footsteps muffled by his own. When we reached the landing at the top, he turned to the first door on the left and went in. It was the bathroom, so I didn't feel it necessary to follow him.

There was actual decoration in the small upstairs area. I found myself in a small hallway with three doors, one on the right and two on the left. A crazy painting of a nighttime landscape hung on the wall at the end of the hallway, and what appeared to be two computer boxes flanked the stairs.

Suddenly I could hear the shower going in the bathroom, and I decided to take my chances and discard my little package. I tiptoed downstairs and searched for a suitable place to hide it, but of course there weren't any. Then I thought, hey, he won't need to go outside for another month, right?

I punched in the first code and entered the little room adjacent to the garage, where I punched in the second code and stepped out. The garage was just as clean, now, as the inside of the house. "Weirdo," I muttered to myself as I stashed my package and hurried back inside.

I reactivated the two security systems and, now shoeless _and_ shirtless, made my way back upstairs just as the shower turned off. I waited.

Another couple of minutes passed, and my composure finally broke when I realized what I was doing.

I started laughing. I mean, the whole situation was completely insane. Here I was, wearing only a pair of pants, waiting for a paranoid wacko to get out of the shower so I could kill him?

It all seemed so… improbable.

I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, trying to remain as quiet as I could. I eventually started crying.

Improbable, but horribly bleak.

The guy came out of the bathroom, a robe on and his clothes folded neatly under one arm. He moved across the hall to another door, went in, and closed it. I was too busy trying to stay silent to follow.

I tried to get my emotions under control. I mean, even if the gods were playing some horrible joke on me, I still had to keep my cool. My life – and all of yours – depended on it.

The guy came out, dressed exactly as he had been before, but in clean clothes. He must have had two copies of the same outfit, or something. Then he moved to the third and final door in the hall, which had another keypad to the side. Finally composed enough to move, I sidled up next to him silently and waited. If he closed this door as quickly as he'd closed the other two, I only had a small window of opportunity to get inside.

He punched in 4-7-8-9 once, twice, thrice, and opened the door. As soon as I could see in the room my eyes widened. The whole thing was filled with computer equipment, monitors, I could hear fans running, there were lights blinking.

I got distracted long enough for him to close the door, leaving me outside.

The laughter came again. I clamped my mouth shut, determined not to break down a second time.

For several hours I waited there, alone and cold. I pondered my objective.

Mr. John Bower was... touched. You didn't have to be a brain surgeon to figure that out. I felt sorry for him, I really did. The Order had sent me to kill what amounted to an invalid. That's what it felt like; I was in the house to kill a man who could not get up out of bed.

Certainly not willing to kill someone like that, my mind started to turn ever so slowly. I couldn't avoid killing him, or you (he points to Akane) would die. Or maybe I could? What if I kidnapped him, moved him somewhere else, gave him a new life?

No, kidnapping was no good; he couldn't even go outside without freaking out. How could I thrust him into some completely different country?

Well, what if I reasoned with him? Yeah, like that would work. As soon as he found out I was there he would have called the police or something.

Maybe I had to kill him? No, no! Ranma Saotome – or Lim Nguyen or whoever I was that day – didn't ever kill defenseless opponents, ever. There had to be a way around it, so I sat and recalculated. Over and over and over.

The temperature had dropped in the house. I shivered.

I heard the door unlock, and it opened, releasing Mr. John Bower, frantic, wearing another surgeon's mask and holding a pistol. "I know you're here, Ranma Saotome!" he said shakily. "Leave or I-I-I'll kill you!"

Somehow, he'd found out. And my real name! I had to do some damage control. But you know me; I'm not the best speaker. "I am not here to hurt you," was all I could think to say.

He turned toward the sound of my voice. "Liar! Liar liar liar!"

I moved out of his gun's way and spoke again. "Look, really, I am not going to kill you. I want to help you."

He shifted his muzzle to cover me again; I moved again.

"How did you get in? My security system is invincible!" His knuckles were white on the gun's grip, his eyes ablaze with fear and madness.

"It does not matter. Please, put the gun away. Let us talk."

"No!" he screamed. "Get out or I'll shoot you!"

This was going nowhere fast, so I made a decision – a hasty decision, a bad decision, but a decision. I stepped close to him and grabbed the gun from his hands in one single, swift movement. My camouflage dropped and I stood before him, shirtless, holding the gun by its barrel and showing him my palms. "I just want to-" was all I got out before he jumped back, tripped over his own feet, and fell right downstairs.

A pit settled in my stomach as I hurried to the top of the stairway, where my fears were confirmed. He lay at the bottom, his neck at an impossible angle.

Without even wanting to, I'd managed to accomplish my mission.

(Ranma chuckles.)

I guess... Well I should have been able to catch him. I hesitated – why, I couldn't tell you. But I should have been able to catch him.

So. I still held his gun, and the deed had been done – like it or not, he was dead. My mind kind of shut down, went into survival mode.

The gun. I was holding the gun. It had my prints on it. Okay, find a towel, wipe it down. Clean, good. Had to look like an accident. Gun means it wasn't an accident. Put it back – but where? The room. I input his code and stepped in.

The computer room was much warmer, but I didn't have time to dawdle. Box? Compartment? Where did this gun go? So many lights... Ah! An open drawer!

All right, obviously the right drawer. Carefully place the gun back in the felt-lined box, close the lid... wait, did I turn on the safety? Open the lid, flip the safety on, close the lid again.

But would he have kept the safety on? He was paranoid, after all.

Think, think! No time! Got to get out of here!

I squashed down a feeling of panic and closed the drawer. Fuck the safety.

Wait, how did he know it was me? Seconds, precious seconds... The computer screens!

I turned to the... wall of illuminated boxes. Each of them displayed something different, but similar. It looked like he had eight or so different email services open, and they all had the same message displayed: 'A man is in your house. He is trying to kill you. His name is Ranma Saotome.'

How...?

No matter, ask Saya later. Delete, erase all sign of me. No more emails... All right, any other sign I was there? Footprints, no. Wait, footprints! Hardwood floors! Bare feet! Shit!

Towel, towel. Wipe the floor, careful, don't touch the floor with bare skin.

Door, 4-7-8-9, wipe the keypad. Open the door, close the door, wipe the handle. Wipe the floor. 4-7-8-9 with the towel.

Move downstairs, make sure to wipe the floor. Step over his body.

Wait.

Check his pulse...

His flesh was warm, soft. There was no pulse.

Wipe my hand, wipe my hand! Dead body!

Move, move, move. House code, garage code, wipe wipe wipe.

Back in the garage I stopped. What time was it? Night. Any other houses around? No, no, isolated. Good. Umi-Sen Ken, Bend the Light, Soul of Ice... Soul of Ice...

Deep breath, deep breath. No panic; calm. All the time in the world.

Soul of Ice. Open the garage door, grab my shirt-parcel, close the garage door from inside, duck under the door. Outside. Move slowly toward the tree line. Towel? For the best, had my skin and hair all over it. Put on my undershirt, shirt, shoes. Still wet. Cold outside. Alaska. Wrap the towel around me.

Look around. Ground still soft? Yes, damn. Footprints from earlier? Yes. SHIT.

No matter. Nothing to be done now. Retrace steps back to forest. One set in, no sets out. Best I can do.

Trees. Jump, jump, jump jump jump stop. Noises?

Silence.

Move!

Back to the gas station. Still night.

Wait.

Shiver.

* * *

I waited until morning, and let me tell you, in Alaska you shouldn't wear wet clothes at night. Summer, winter, doesn't matter. Even with my martial arts training I was shivering uncontrollably.

I... don't know if you're going to take this as a compliment or not, Akane, but that night all I could think about was you. The times I'd _almost_ kissed you, or _almost_ confessed my true feelings. There are quite a lot.

(Akane blushes and Ranma smiles.)

Remember after Sanzenin kissed me, and we were in the dojo? You were trying to be nice, and I was being a jerk, and we almost kissed?

(Nabiki coughs, Kasumi fidgets.)

Or what about that Valentine's day, after the mix-up with the bunny chocolate, and I got depressed because I didn't think you were going to give me anything after all?

(Takeshi coughs and shifts his legs under him.)

Or when my mom asked me to give you the pill box, but we thought it was an engagement ring? You said you were happy.

That memory has kept me going more than once.

(Tofu clears his throat meaningfully. Akane's head is bowed and her face is flushed.)

Right. Sorry.

The van showed up and I literally fell out of the tree. Saya hurried over and helped me into the van. I don't know if we managed to stay off of the security camera, but I didn't care at the time.

We started moving out as Saya attempted to get information. "Did it go well? What happened?"

"H-H-H-Heater..." I stuttered through chattering teeth.

The driver obliged and Saya started rubbing my back. "What happened? Is he dead?"

I ignored her, instead concentrating on the warmth starting to creep back into my body. As I continued to heat up, I got sleepier and sleepier. Saya's questions faded into the background, and I was gone.

When I woke back up we were both in my room at the hotel. I was in bed, a moist towel on my forehead, and Saya was sitting in a chair, watching television. "Wha...?"

Saya turned toward me. "Ah, you are awake. Good."

The television clicked off and I sat up, letting the towel fall to my lap. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long; just a few hours. But you have a fever, so I thought it prudent to make sure you were warm." No affection in her tone; just business. "So how did the mission go?"

The mission. "I'm thirsty. Is there any water around here?"

"No, just the liquor you brought. How. Did. The mission. Go?"

I rolled across the bed and reached into my small suitcase. The liquor was the only thing left in there. "Liquor would probably be better, anyway." I snorted mirthlessly.

"Ranma." I paid no attention to Saya as I opened the bottle and took a long pull.

My mind must not have been working at a hundred percent yet, because – even as unseasoned in alcohol as I was – I should have known better than to take a swig of Scotch.

As soon as I'd forced the liquid down my throat I started coughing. It... well, now I love it, but back then not as much. If you've never tried Scotch, it... it's an acquired taste.

"Ranma!" Saya grabbed the bottle from my hands. "The mission."

"He's dead. He fell down the stairs." I took my bottle back and pushed another mouthful down.

"Good." She nodded. "Any complications? Will they know another person was there?"

Two swallows was my limit. I corked the bottle and dropped it to the side of my bed. "Footprints going from the woods to his house. Couldn't be avoided. Otherwise, no." Saya was silent. "Whatever. This... this whole thing makes me feel dirty. If you want me to apologize for footprints you can go to hell."

"No, no, it should be fine. Rest, Ranma."

"How did he know I was there?"

The look on Saya's face can best be described as 'panic.' "He knew you were there?"

"Yeah. Someone emailed him and even told him my real name." The taste of Scotch was overpowering still, and I coughed.

Saya's face resumed neutrality. "I will inquire. Sleep, Ranma."

She got up to leave. "Wait." With so much going on, with all the things I'd seen, I had to know if she bought into it – the whole Order thing. "Doesn't this bother you? Even a little?"

"What?" she asked innocently; I found myself chuckling.

"Killing people. Training armies of religious zealots. Doesn't this bother you?"

The thirteen year-old girl pondered my question for a moment before responding, "Should it?"

And I had my answer. "Yes." I flopped back down onto my pillow as the alcohol started to make its presence known. "Yes it should."

* * *

I threw up later, but not because of the alcohol. I couldn't get the feeling of Mr. Bower's skin out of my head.

When I got done rinsing my mouth I felt another presence in the room and hit the lights.

Mohammed sat on my bed. His ebony skin reflected the light in odd ways. "Hello, Ranma Saotome.

I was female at the time, but knew I could take him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. You were supposed to die in that house."

"So it was you who told him!"

Mohammed smirked, then. "Yes, and I'm surprised at your surprise." The small smile vanished. "I am here to tell you, Ranma Saotome, that I am going to do everything in my power to get you killed. You do not belong in the Order, and the esteem in which Hoa Mới holds you is unearned." Jumping to his feet he pointed one black finger at me. "The Order is better off without you. I am going to make that a reality."

I dropped my fists. "Look, I don't want to be in your damn Order anyway. If you want to kick me out, do it."

"Hoa Mới would not allow that, nor would any other member of the Order. You are in the Order for life. You know that." He pushed past me, toward the door. "Watch your back."

"Fuck you."

"You wish, transvestite." I whirled around just in time to see the door close.

* * *

In the morning Saya knocked on my door. "Good morning, Ranma. It is time to depart."

"Huh? Where we goin'?" Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I invited her in.

"Our next assignment. Hoa Mới sent me a letter." She sniffed the air. "Did you get sick last night?"

"Yes, and no, not from the alcohol. By the way, Mohammed was the one who told Mr. Bower about me. He was here last night, to taunt me." Stretching my legs and arms felt fantastic. I continued to shake the sleep out of my body while Saya pondered this turn of events.

"I will speak with Hoa Mới."

It seemed to me that Saya wasn't hearing the same information I was. But whatever. Saya was a member of the Order, after all.

I still felt a bit under the weather and decided to shower. "Look, when do we leave?"

"Tonight. Our plane leaves at 5:00." Sitting on the bed, she crossed her legs. When she wanted to, Saya could carry herself like a much older woman.

"Then why are we leaving now?" My shirt hit the floor.

"I was told to be at the airport by 11:00, so I will be there by 11:00."

I walked into the bathroom before I let my pants drop to the white tile floor. "Fine. Let me shower."

I took a long, steamy time in the bathtub-turned-shower. They don't soak over in the U.S., not like we do. I missed it. Modern facilities, but no soaking tub.

When I'd finished brushing my teeth I wrapped a towel around myself and went to get dressed. Saya was still there.

I blushed and grabbed some clothes quickly. "Why are you still here?"

"I'm waiting for you, Ranma." I saw her eyes drop to the towel, and back up to my face. "And I thought I'd enjoy the show."

"Holy...! Are you thirteen or thirty?!" I closed the door to the bathroom behind me, started dressing.

I moved back into the hotel room proper and started packing. Saya's eyes followed my every move, making me very uncomfortable. "Um... do you need something, Saya?"

"A kiss."

I almost dropped my bottle of Scotch. "Wh-what?"

"A kiss. I like you, Ranma." She looked up at me from the bed, smiling. I noticed, then, that she resembled Nabiki. Her hair was longer, but she looked like a younger you. (A nod to the middle Tendo sister.)

"Look," I said, edging backwards, "I'm, uh, flattered, but you're thirteen! You're still a kid! I mean, come on, three months ago you liked Dmitri!"

Her smile disappeared, then, and she stood. "I know what I like, Ranma Saotome. Do not treat me like a child."

"But you ARE a child!" Her punch came swiftly and knocked me flat.

"Bastard." She stepped over me and out of the room.

From the floor, I shook my head. "One minute she's Nabiki, the next she's Akane. What did I do to deserve this?"

* * *

Ranma held up her hands defensively as the temperature in the room dropped about twenty degrees. "Whoa, look, that's not what I meant!"

"Oh, really?" Nabiki's face was blank, dangerous.

"Yes, Ranma, what _did_ you mean, then?" Akane's smile cut at Ranma, sharp like a knife.

"Look, really, I meant that she was manipulative like Nabiki and she had a short temper like Akane!"

Nabiki relaxed. "Oh. Okay then."

Akane, however, continued to seethe. "Well maybe if you weren't such a jerk I wouldn't have had such a short temper!"

Ranma scooted away from the table unconsciously. "Yes, fine, you're right! I'm sorry!"

That seemed to placate her a bit, and she backed down with a nod. "Darn right you're sorry."

The whole room sighed with relief, the situation diffused.

"Okay. Back to the story."

* * *

I'll skip the connecting flights again.

The plane into Beijing reeked of body odor and disinfectant; my seat was lumpy and uncomfortable; Saya still wasn't speaking to me; and there was a void in my chest that I just couldn't seem to fill.

And then there was the mission.

I was supposed to join the Chinese Army. As a woman.

The false birth certificate and passport and other documents held up under the rigorous eye of the Communist government, and I was in.

Saya had been set up with a factory job and a small hovel – it was supposed to be an apartment, but the thing was about as big as your laundry room – and she was to be my main contact. Under the premise of writing to my 'little sister,' I was to utilize a code in order to inform Saya of military procedures, troop movements, and stuff like that.

I didn't know it at the time, but my "work" over there would cause a lot of pain and suffering throughout the years to come.

(Ranma falls silent.)

No, there's not much to say about that two years of my life.

Two years...!

Okay, here's the run down:

Military training was a breeze, and I earned accolades early on. They wanted to promote me a couple of times, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself so I refused.

Exercises, training, peacekeeping, policing... peacetime stuff. Nothing else to do.

I did my job and wrote everything I knew – _everything_, from the designations for different battalions to what we were served for lunch – in that code and sent it off to Saya.

(Ranma runs her hands over her face.) Shit, two years! I still can't believe I spent that long in that... that hell-hole. Two years of cold showers. Two years being a woman. Two years of being harassed, ridiculed, ostracized...

(Suddenly Ranma lashes out and punches a hole clean through the table in front of her.)

* * *

Kasumi jumped and let out a small yelp of surprise. "Ranma!"

But Ranma had already withdrawn her hand and started to apologize. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just... have a lot of bad memories from those days."

Dr. Tofu smiled gently. "It's okay, Ranma, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Shin, however, had a different idea. "No, I want to hear what happened." Nabiki nodded in agreement.

"I don't think that's necessary..." Akane trailed off as she caught sight of Ranma. The air above the small redhead had started to waver from her battle aura.

Shin, for his part, knew when to back down. "Fine, sorry."

Nabiki, though, thought Ranma was still a push-over. "No, no, Ranma, you 'came here to explain, and it wouldn't be much of an explanation if you left out the important details,' right?"

"Nabiki," whispered Ranma into the woman's ear. She had moved so quickly she may as well have teleported. "I have a present for you." And Ranma's hands, glowing a strange blue, darted to Nabiki's temples.

* * *

Nabiki found herself in a tiny, filthy room with water stains on the walls and no windows. A young girl stood in front of her, and the girl looked a lot like Nabiki had when she was younger.

"Your Chinese is not good enough, that's why. You must take one of these every morning and every night. They will relax your vocal cords so even if you try, you can't talk." The girl held out a small bag about the size of a change purse, and Nabiki saw her hand reach out and take it.

"How will I get more?" she heard herself say. She took a pill out of the purse and rolled it around in her hand.

What the hell was going on?

"I will send them to you in letters. They will be disguised as candy."

"Fine." Nabiki's vision swam, and resolved into an obstacle course. She was standing at the finish line, watching the other men and women struggle to make it through. Nabiki tried to say something, anything, but she couldn't control her body. Someone else was in charge.

"Xiu Lan!" Nabiki's head whipped around and she saw a man in a military uniform approaching her, a frown on his face. "Why are you done already? If even one person from your squad fails, everyone fails!" He was speaking in Chinese, but for some reason Nabiki could understand him perfectly.

Suddenly, the man struck her across the face with his hand. Nabiki stood there silently. "Go back to the beginning, and if you finish before anyone else again I'll personally make sure that you wash out, understood?" Nabiki's head nodded once and she started jogging back to the beginning of the course.

Her vision swam again, and she suddenly saw a naked redhead in the mirror. Ranma was covered in bruises. Nabiki's hand moved up to her face, and the Ranma in the mirror moved her hand as well.

Holy hell! Nabiki knew why she couldn't control herself; she was in Ranma's memories!

A group of women passed behind Ranma, toward the showers, and one of them laughed. "That's what you get for showing off."

Nabiki punched the mirror, and as it shattered, her vision shattered with it.

Blood, from between her legs. Fear. What was going on? Her stomach hurt so very badly. Nabiki thought the word 'tampon' as hard as she could, but her body just crammed a sock into a pair of panties and got dressed.

"Excellent work, Xiu Lan!" A female officer was smiling at Nabiki through the driving rain. "You're on your way to a promotion if you keep this up! But how did you know that the other team was lying in ambush?" Nabiki found her shoulders shrugging. "No matter. All right, everyone," the officer yelled, "back to the barracks!"

As Nabiki turned to leave she caught the glares from everyone else – her team included.

Suddenly in a communal shower room, she felt the pounding, frigid water on the back of her head.

Then there was a great gathering in front of her. "Welcome to the Army!" cried a man on a podium, and the whole assembly cheered. Except for Nabiki.

Everything went dark. Nabiki's eyes slowly opened and she found herself staring at a group of six people. "Time to pay for your arrogance, Xiu Lan."

The attack was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Nabiki smirked to herself as she settled back down to sleep, the six would-be assailants unconscious on the ground.

Then the six of them were in front of her again, this time with an officer. "For attacking these six soldiers you will be given six lashes."

The whip bit into Nabiki's flesh and she would have screamed if she'd been able.

'It has only been one year,' read the letter in Nabiki's hands, 'and I am becoming restless, my sister. I work seventeen hours a day. The landlord is terrible to me. None of the other workers will even speak to me. Also, I fear I am growing quite sick. I wonder what our mother would think of this.' It was not signed.

Nabiki crushed the letter in her hands before burning it and walking back to her room.

An officer smiled at her over a desk. "I am glad to see you have an interest in the People's Armed Police. You will fit in well here." His smile morphed into the grimace of an old man, chained to the inside of a steel cargo vessel.

"Another human trafficking ring." Nabiki's squad leader scratched his forehead and sighed deeply. "Well, we've done all we can. Time to let the lawyers deal with this guy." He nodded his head toward an older man, wearing an expensive business suit and standing quietly, hands cuffed behind his back, an unreadable expression on his face.

The businessman's smile peered out from the newspaper. 'Local Businessman Cleared of Charges' read the headline. "It's out of our hands, Xiu Lan. He knows the right people." Nabiki felt a hand on her shoulder. "Best to let this one go."

Another letter flashed before Nabiki's eyes. 'Seven months, my sister, and I will be able to see you again. My fondest regards.' Pills spilled out of the envelope. Nabiki grabbed one, grit her teeth and popped it into her mouth.

She swallowed. 'Good beer!' she thought. The bar was packed, noisy, conversations assaulting her ears from every direction. Smoke filled the air.

"Drink up!" A squad mate handed her a bottle and she downed it in one pull.

Her vision was getting slower, her movements fuzzier. Nabiki's squad leader smiled over his own beer. She could see a couple of her other squad mates laughing over the squad leader's shoulder.

Pointing to the empty bottle, she tried to shrug her shoulders, convey a message with her arms. 'What's it called?' Nabiki's vision wasn't up to the task of reading Chinese at the moment.

"It's called Ketamine." Nabiki knew, she _knew_ what they were planning. But Nabiki's body just smiled. "Have another."

The lights began to spin, slowly at first, then more quickly. The air pulsated, as if it were breathing itself in, exhaling matter in the form of tiny pins which pricked her arms and legs gently. Nabiki found herself giggling. Arms grabbed her, helped her up. They were walking.

The night sky pulsated, undulated, danced back and forth through the clouds. Words lost their meaning, echoing in her head over and over until they were reduced to unintelligible noise. The world was muffled; everything came slowly, passed too quickly. She stumbled. Hands caught her, pulled her forward.

A room, suddenly. Nabiki laughed. Someone took off her shirt, her pants. Light disappeared.

Things came in that darkness.

Silence.

Akane's face, there then gone.

Waking up, Nabiki found herself sore. She brought a hand up to rub her forehead as she looked about. A strange hotel room, deserted but for her. How had she gotten there? she wondered involuntarily.

Her abdomen throbbed suddenly, and Nabiki looked down. She was bruised, ravaged, naked and on top of the covers. The insides of her legs were sticky. There was blood on the bed.

Nabiki's tears came unbidden, she raced to the bathroom. Vomit splashed all over the floor, but more came soon enough, into the toilet, until nothing was left but bile.

She saw her squad leader's face, then, in the toilet. It smiled a friendly smile. "Do you want to come out with some of the boys and me, to get a drink? We know a great place."

"I did not rape her, no, Sir." The squad leader's face hardened as Nabiki's eyes caught his. "There is no way...

"...that they are going to let him off!" cried a woman in the room, staring at the television. Ranma sipped her whiskey from the bar quietly, pulled her hood further onto her head. Four weeks, and the bastard was free.

The television showed the man, smiling for the cameras, expounding on how the woman in question was a tease, a whore, jealous that she couldn't get promoted.

That smug look faded as the light left his eyes. Nabiki removed the knife from his throat, wiped it clean on his rank insignia.

"It is a sad thing," said the officer in front of her, "that this man died. Many people liked him, people much higher up than myself." Nabiki coughed, suddenly nauseous, but resisted the urge to vomit. "And if you had no alibi, Xiu Lan, you would be among the chief suspects." Nabiki found herself suppressing the urge to smile.

"You are pregnant." Her head shook no, but the doctor nodded. "Yes. I will have to speak with your supervisors. You should not be out in the field." Nabiki vomited again.

"You will be at a desk for the remainder of your enlistment." A captain gestured toward a small desk, one among hundreds in the room. All were occupied by women. "Shu will instruct you in your duties."

Nabiki's stomach had started to distend. She looked at her nude reflection in the mirror, found her fists clenching of their own accord.

"Xiu Lan. Type this and send it to the law office." The paper she held was a hand-written pardon, apparently for a man accused of rape.

"It was good to have you in the service, Xiu Lan." The captain bowed formally. "Best of luck in the future." As she left the office, her large belly bulging out of the outfit she'd worn to sign up, she felt the child inside of her kick. Hate welled up, threatening to overflow.

So much hate.

* * *

In an instant it was done, and Ranma stepped back. "Nabiki, you tell the stories. I want to go to the bathroom." She stalked out of the room, stomping but making nary a noise.

Nabiki, however, had tears streaming down her face as she breathed deeply, trying to shake off the memories. "No," she started to whisper to herself, scrubbing at her eyes. "No, no, no..."

"Ranma, what did you do?!" Akane's scream cut through the still night air.

"Akane." The soft voice – the timid voice – came from Nabiki. Shin put his arm around the woman protectively, and she gripped his hand appreciatively. "I'm fine."

"But what happened?" asked Kasumi, her eyes full of concern.

"I'll tell you, but you have to give me a minute to recover."

* * *

The bathroom was just as Ranma remembered it. She washed her hands, cupped them under the hot water, splashed it over her face. Red hair fell into the sink; muscles grew, chest shrank.

Ranma looked at himself in the mirror for a long minute, noting his strong chin, his eyes, his bald head.

The hair in the sink was wet, sticky. It made a soft thump as it hit the trash can, and he went to wash his hands again.

Deep breaths. Deep, shuddering breaths.

The hallway was the same, too. How many times had Ranma thought of these hallways with longing in his heart?

Too many.

Voices from the other room. Shocked surprise. Indignation. Sympathy.

He didn't need their sympathy.

Stepping into the light of the dining room, Ranma noticed all eyes turn to him.

Silence.

"All done? Or should I pick up from where Nabiki left off?"

Akane's face buried itself in Takeshi's chest. Kasumi was as pale as a ghost, but her eyes shimmered with compassion. Nabiki refused to look. "No. You should continue your story." Her voice held none of its usual contempt.

As he took his place at the table, Shin seemed to be searching his mind for something. He almost spoke several times, but thought better of it. "Is there something you want to ask, Shin?" Ranma's face was stone.

Another aborted attempt at speech, before, "Well, was it a boy or a girl?"

Ranma waved off Dr. Tofu's good-intentioned intervention. "No, Dr. Tofu, it's all right." Addressing Shin, "It was a little girl, Shin, and I named her Akane." His face softened, his eyes brightened. "She was as beautiful as her namesake."

"Was?" blurted Shin before he caught himself. "Sorry, sorry, that was insensitive, I know. Sorry."

He stared at the table, a small smile on his face, lost in thought. "Yes, was. She died soon after she was born. Problems with her heart. Congenital defect." Ranma absently scratched his nose. "The first time I held her, though – the only time I held her – I could have done anything in the world. I would have, too, to protect her." The light in Ranma's eyes dulled. "But I only got three days with her before she died."

"You hated the child." Nabiki's sentence cut through the air, pierced Ranma's heart. "I felt it. I felt your hate, Ranma."

"No." His head shook vehemently. "At first, before she was born, yes. She was an unwelcome intruder, an affront to my manhood. But when she was born, and I got to hold her, look into her eyes... before they took her away, for tests and surgeries..." Dr. Tofu grimaced. "No, Nabiki, I loved her. I loved her more than I have loved anyone in more than ten years."

Akane started to bawl then, as sudden and intense as a volcanic eruption. Kasumi wiped a tear from her face as well.

Someone knocked at the front door; Kasumi stood, left to answer it, and returned a few moments later. Ryoga rounded the corner, still in his police uniform. "Hello. Sorry to bother you so late, but I wanted to hear Ranma's story, too." He squeezed himself in next to Akane, noticed that she was crying softly. "What happened?" A stern glare spitted Ranma. "Ranma, did you do something?!"

"No. For once, I didn't. It's nice to see you again, Ryoga. Sorry about earlier." A smile.

Akane continued to shudder with sobs. Ryoga grew visibly angrier with every sound. "What. Did. You. Do?"

The Doctor's voice was soft but firm. "Ryoga, Ranma didn't do anything. He was just telling us what happened to him after he disappeared."

Ryoga deflated. "Oh. Sorry. But then why is Akane crying?"

"Ranma just told us something very sad." Takeshi went back to comforting his wife.

"Oh? What?"

Ranma's words were filled with love and sadness. "I had a daughter, and she died." He sighed. "But enough of that. I'm just about to get to the part where I saw you, Ryoga. Remember?"

All eyes turned to Ryoga, who shrunk back. "Uh... yeah, I do."

* * *

POSTSCRIPT:I lose at life. Fixed a terrible, terrible error that comes from a.) not having a proofreader, and b.) being a moron. There might be some more in there, but I don't have time right now to go through again, so please, bear with me while I go back through this chapter with a fine-toothed comb. If I find too many things wrong with it, or I just plain don't like it anymore, you might find it removed temporarily.

Sorry for being a tool.


	5. Chapter 5

Miscellaneous Debris

Chapter 5

Recommended listening: "Street Spirit (Fade Out)" by Radiohead, off of their album _The Bends_

Ver. 0.3.2

* * *

Some stuff happened, and Saya went back to the village while I stayed in Beijing.

What happened next was pretty routine for me. I was supposed to meet another contact, who would take me somewhere and have me do something.

I was spending a lot of time in bars, drinking my problems away, waiting for this person to contact me. Eventually he got a hold of me in my hotel room, and we arranged to meet in the lobby. Turns out he was from another small Chinese village, in Tibet actually, and I was supposed to help them train. Again.

I asked him to make a quick pit-stop in Jusenkyo. I figured it had been long enough for the springs to calm down, for the water level to drop. I wanted to become a man again, all the time, forever.

"Sure," he said, "it's only a little bit out of our way."

I ended up abandoning a lot of my clothes, my suitcase, and anything else I couldn't fit into a backpack. I was in training mode again, and all of that would just weigh me down.

It felt good to be back on the road.

We made it to Jusenkyo, and just as I suspected, the place was back to normal. The familiar bamboo training poles jutted from the water haphazardly, but it was definitely in working order.

My face split into a smile. As I started running to the guide's hut, I heard laughter, looked around for a while before I realized that it was coming from me. I was going to be free of that damn girl body!

Then I caught laughter that wasn't mine. Off to my right was a man (he nods to Ryoga), running and laughing like I had been. It only took me a second to recognize his bandanna and fangs. "Ryoga?" I called to him.

He spied me and stopped in his tracks. We approached each other cautiously, though I was filled with conflicting emotions: happy, sad, nervous, excited, angry… you get the idea.

"Ranma…?" he asked softly. When I nodded, his battle aura flared and he attacked.

We were both a little out of practice at that point. I hadn't had a chance to do any real fighting for a long time, and I can only imagine that without me to beat up on Ryoga, he couldn't properly train either. (A smirk and a scowl.) I still managed to win, of course, and as I dragged his unconscious body to the guide's hut my benefactor started clapping. "Oh, Sir, you will be a wonderful teacher for our village! I am glad we decided to hire your services, instead of going to war right away."

I stopped. "What."

"Yes, sir, we are going to war! Soon. We voted within our village, and we decided to hire a martial arts master before hand. It was a very good decision, yes indeed." His smile was so innocent I couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.

"You go to war." I stood up straight and stretched my back. The fight had taken a lot out of me.

"Yes."

"I here help train for that." My Chinese really is atrocious.

"Yes."

A long pause. "What you war _for_?"

This time his face became more serious. "We are fighting for a free Tibet. We are fighting for autonomy. We are fighting for the life all people should have."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I sorry, I sorry, but you dead. Chinese army is going crush you. Hands down. No way you win." Ryoga stirred at my feet and I flipped him over, onto his back. "Listen, guy."

"Jigme."

"Jigme. I help train. I do what you want. But think. Plan. This not good path." The sun beat down from above. Heat radiated off the ground, and I sighed. "Hold. I be right back." Making my way to the Guide's hut, I thought about what he'd said. I was going to help train people to go to war. A village, from what it sounded like. No bigger than the Order. And they expected to beat the Chinese government?

I'd seen the army. I knew how many people they had, what kind of firepower. I was helping an entire village march to their deaths.

I rapped loudly on the door to the cottage. "Yes?" the guide called from inside.

"I wish speak."

The door opened and the short, pudgy guide – who hadn't changed at all in five years – smiled up at me. "Ah, sir! Good to see you again!"

I smiled. "It all right, you can speak Chinese." I pointed to the pools with one hand. "Which Nannichuan?"

"Nannichuan, yes, yes. Follow." I ran back to hoist Ryoga up on my shoulders, then followed the guide to my salvation – the Spring of Drowned Man.

It was so close I could taste it.

The guide stopped and pointed. "Here, sir, is Nannichuan. But-"A loud battle cry cut him off, and I turned to see a pair of women running toward us, locked in battle.

I had to duck as they jumped over me, fists flying, hair whipping from side to side, purple and black.

Purple?

"Shampoo!" The older woman stopped, then, allowing the younger one to land a blow which sent her flying toward me. I was still tired, but I managed to catch her. And it was definitely Shampoo.

She immediately squealed, as she does from time to time, and… what's the word…? Nuzzle. She nuzzled her face into my neck, which set me a-blushin'. "Husband! You live!"

"Whoa, Shampoo, I speak Chinese." I set her down and held her at arms length, to get a look at her. She hadn't changed much, except for her face had aged slightly. She looked to be harder, more severe. Still pretty, but a dangerous beauty, like Nabiki. (Shin snorts. "Dangerous is right.")

"Oh, that's wonderful. I hate Japanese. It's a stupid language." Her opponent approached from behind us. "You will wait there until I am done. Our training is not over."

"Yes, Shampoo." The other girl's reply was meek, formal.

"Husband, why did you disappear? Where have you been?" She seemed to realize something, then, and her demeanor changed. "Did you try to run away from me? Or are you some kind of imposter?"

Her strike was lightning-quick, but I was quicker. Even out of shape, I'm quicker than most. Her flurry of punches was met with a flurry of blocks, and I managed to trip her to the ground and pin her.

Then she smiled and kissed me. (Akane's shoulders slump, almost imperceptibly.) I recoiled, of course, and she jumped back into my arms. "Oh, it _is_ you! This is wonderful! You can come back to the village, and we'll get married right away!"

I sat back on my haunches and caught my breath. "Shampoo. Listen. I go Nannichuan, then we talk. Yes?" I was so close to my cure that I couldn't bear it any longer. I could almost feel the cool water on my skin.

"No!" She clamped onto my forearms, her hands like vises. "You mustn't!"

Now that was surprising. I recovered, and got very angry. "What? You know what it like to have cursed! I going get cured, Shampoo! You cured, yes? Why I no cured?"

"Please listen, Husband. The curse does not work that way." I'd had enough. I tried to shake her off, but she held fast. "Listen! Please!"

The guide nodded and spoke again. "Yes, she's right, Sir. You see-"

"Enough!" I broke her grip finally and turned to the spring. "I go in now."

The guide yelled "Wait!" as I approached. Shampoo, however, grabbed a flask of water from her hip and threw it on herself.

What happened was surprising, terrifying, but I should have seen it coming.

Shampoo didn't turn into a cat. She didn't stay human, though, either.

See, the thing about Jusenkyo curses is that they stack. You remember Pantyhose Taro, right? (Several people nod.) Well, remember how he was that big monster the first time he came around, but the second he had added octopus tentacles? (More nods, and Dr. Tofu scratches his chin.) That's the nature of Jusenkyo. You can't copy one curse over another. They merge.

Shampoo was still mostly human – she stood as tall as before, and she had more or less human features – except she was covered in white fur, she had cat ears, fangs, paws, claws, and a tail. She was a cat-human hybrid.

So I freaked out and hid behind the guide while Jigme jumped with surprise, then scowled.

Shampoo's voice was strange, high-pitched, as she spoke: "You see, Husband, this is what happens when you fall into more than one spring. You do not want this."

Ryoga came to, then, and when he caught sight of Shampoo he screamed. Like a little girl. (Ryoga clenches his fist, but Ranma holds up his hands.) I'm kidding, Ryoga. Sorry.

He screamed, all manly-like, and scrambled backwards. It took a little coaxing, a bit of threatening, and some hot water, but we – all six of us – eventually sat down inside the guide's hut for a talk.

I went first, speaking Chinese for the benefit of most people there, while the guide translated for Ryoga. "I Ranma Saotome, I martial artist from Japan. This," I indicated Ryoga, "is friend. She, Shampoo, is also friend. I kidnapped by Vietnam group, kill friends, Ukyo, Mr. Tendo, force me join." I looked to Jigme, who was still scowling. "I work for Jigme, now, and help him train village. Sorry, Jigme, but my name not Nguyen. It Ranma Saotome."

Jigme shrugged. "Your name isn't important. But we have spent too much time here. We must get back to my village."

"Please, patient. Not take much longer." I turned back to Shampoo. "Shampoo, I not marry. I have job, for Jigme. It important."

Shampoo just smiled. "That's all right. I will follow you. You are my husband, after all." She turned to her ward. "Go back to the village and tell Elder Cologne what has happened, and that I am following my husband. She will understand." The younger woman immediately stood and left the hut, despite the protests of both myself and Jigme.

"You not come!" I insisted in my broken Chinese.

"Young miss, Ranma Saotome is right. You can't come. This is not a joyride; this is war. My people will react poorly to an outsider tagging along."

Shampoo, though, scowled from beneath her purple bangs. "I am coming. There is nothing you can do to dissuade me from this, Mister Jigme. Ranma can tell you; I am very persistent."

"Shampoo, please! This not game! People die!" I couldn't help but think of Akane, then, and my heart ached.

"Husband." Again her words stopped me. "You have beaten me in combat multiple times. You are destined to be my husband, now and forever. Wherever you go, I go. It is Amazon law."

Jigme's face changed completely. "Oh, she's an Amazon? That's all right, then. She can come."

Floored by his complete one-eighty, I exclaimed, "What?"

I have to give it to you, Ryoga, you were very patient during all of this. (Ryoga shrugs. "I was still shocked to see you." Ranma laughs.)

Jigme explained: "The Amazon village is allied with our village, though very loosely. When it comes time to go to war, the Amazons will be there with us."

"Ah, you're a member of the Confederacy?" Shampoo's attitude changed, too. "That's great! This will work out very well."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell is this Confederacy, and how do you know each other, and what is going on?" I'd slipped back into Japanese accidentally, and I didn't catch it until I heard the guide translating.

Finally Ryoga piped up. "Yes, what _is_ going on, Ranma?"

"Now don't you start, P-Chan. I'm trying to figure that out myself." Addressing Jigme and back in Chinese, "What is Confederacy?"

"A great number of small villages and militias have banded together to form a loose coalition with the common goal of overthrowing the Chinese government."

I blinked twice. "All want free Tibet?"

Shampoo smiled. "No, Husband. All of us want autonomy. Tibet will be free, our village will be free, all people will be free. There will be no more central Chinese government; provinces and individual villages will be free to do as they please."

"Whoa, wait." I never have been very smart, but I'd spent some time over in Israel so I had a little experience with this. "Like Middle East? With... uh..." I had to switch to Japanese. "...sectarian violence?" The Jusenkyo guide took a moment finding the correct translation.

"The Middle East is a very small region with a very large population. Our villages and provinces are more isolated, with smaller populations. Also, our religions do not clash in such a violent manner." Jigme moved his hands when he spoke, which bugged the crap out of me. "China now," an expansive gesture with both arms, "is too large to function properly. The Confederacy," he indicated Shampoo and himself, "will reinvest political power with provinces. Tibet will be free to decide how it works, and smaller villages that are more isolated from Eastern China – the major population centers such as Beijing and Hong Kong – will be free to do as they please." Arms waving, he finished his speech and waited for my response.

I took a few seconds to wrap my head around this idea. "So you want freedom, yes?" Jigme nodded. "And you go war for it?" Another nod. "And you hire me for train you?" Affirmative. "Well, that okay with me, I guess."

"I'm so glad you approve." At first I thought he was being sarcastic, but the look in his eyes was of actual glee. "The more people we have fighting with us the better. As you said earlier, the Chinese army is not weak."

Ryoga spoke again. "What does all of this have to do with me?"

"Nothing, Ryoga." I clapped him on the shoulder, and he shook my hand off. "But you did attack me, and I figured it would be good to catch up a bit, see how you've been."

"I have nothing to say to you, Ranma. You abandoned Akane." Ryoga bared his fangs at me, and the Jusenkyo guide let out a small yelp. "Do you have any idea how much Akane hurt after you left? How long she spent waiting for you to come back, or even send a letter?"

I won't lie: that warmed my heart, it really did. "No," I whispered softly.

"Of course you wouldn't. You don't care about Akane at all." That, however, did it for me.

I grabbed Ryoga by the front of his shirt and stared into his face, hurt and angry. (Ryoga speaks. "There was madness in your eyes, Ranma. I was scared for my life.")

You should have been.

"I loved Akane more than I have ever loved anyone in my life, Ryoga, and if you ever suggest otherwise again I will kill you and forget you ever existed." In the back of my head I realized that I'd spoken in past tense: 'I loved Akane,' not 'I love Akane.' But I didn't have time to think on that just yet. "If you knew half of the things I've been through since I 'abandoned' Akane," my spittle flew onto Ryoga's face, "you'd shut your mouth and never speak again. Got it?"

Ryoga nodded, and the whole hut fell silent until I let go of Ryoga and sat back. "Ryoga. I did not have a choice in leaving Akane, or I never would've. I did it to protect her." I clenched and unclenched my fists, remembering the horrors I'd seen. "If you see her again, tell her that. I don't care if you tell her I'm dead; it'd probably be better. But tell her I had no choice."

I bowed to him, then, prostrating myself. "Please."

* * *

Ranma addressed the people around the table. "I can only assume that he didn't tell you anything. Which is fine, really. Like I said, it was probably better that way. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to come here and do this."

Akane turned a hurt expression toward Ryoga. "You knew he was alive, and you didn't tell me?"

The fanged man dry-washed his hands nervously. "Well, Akane, you have to understand, I never liked Ranma, and he was always so mean to me. He was the whole reason I got cursed in the first place, and-"

Shin interrupted with a shocked exclamation. "Ryoga, you're cursed too?"

Akane turned to her brother-in-law. "Yes, he was P-Chan, a pet piglet I had when I was younger." She glanced at her sisters. "Remember him?" Kasumi nodded, Nabiki smirked, and Shin and Takeshi frowned. "When I found out, I didn't tell you because I was embarrassed. In retrospect it all seems so obvious."

"So wait, when did you find out?" Ranma scratched his head absently.

"A little bit after you left. He came clean with me on his own." Ranma nodded to Ryoga with respect, but Akane continued, "I got mad and kicked him out, and then I didn't see him again for many years until he showed up here in Nerima as a police officer. We started rebuilding our friendship, and things have been going well since." Her glare turned cold. "But I guess Ryoga's still keeping things from me, huh?"

"Hey, how do you find your way around as a cop, Ryoga?" Ranma leaned forward. "Don't you have the world's worst sense of direction?"

"GPS," the fanged boy scowled at Ranma, holding up a black gadget. He turned back to Akane. "Now wait just a minute-"

"No, you wait." The short-haired woman jabbed a sharp finger into Ryoga's chest. "I confided in you, Ryoga. I told you how much I missed him."

Takeshi fidgeted nervously, a worried look on his face.

"Yeah, but then I told you about my curse and you said you didn't want to see me ever again." Ryoga was backing away from Akane's accusing digit.

"But you came back, didn't you? You came back and we became friends again. And you still didn't tell me?" She shook her head, then, and even Ranma could hear Ryoga's heart break. "I think you should leave."

"Akane, please, hear me out." A note of desperation entered into his voice. "You're a good friend of mine, and-"

"No. We are no longer friends, Ryoga. This is the second time you've kept important things from me." She crossed her arms with finality. "I want you to go."

"Akane," said Kasumi with a worried frown, "are you sure?"

"Yeah, he should at least be able to stay until I leave." Ranma did kind of feel bad for Ryoga, even though the whole situation was his own fault.

Akane's stern visage left no room for argument. "Fine," sighed Ryoga, "I'll leave."

The room went deathly silent as the police officer stood up, ran his hands through his hair, and turned to all assembled. "I know it doesn't make a difference, but I was trying to protect Akane. Ranma told me himself that he couldn't come back. Why worry Akane? She just would've gone off and searched for him, and that wouldn't have done anybody any good."

Nabiki broke her silence. "It's not your place to decide what's good for Akane, Ryoga." Shin nodded.

Ryoga Hibiki spitted Ranma with a hateful glare. "Ranma, you've destroyed my life again. I'll be waiting for you outside, as long as it takes."

Ranma's hackles raised. "Now hold on, Ryoga. I admit that I was the one who knocked you into the spring, but you're the one who decided to follow me all over China. You're the one who chose not to tell Akane about your curse – and why I didn't tell you, Akane, I have no idea. I'm deeply sorry about that." Turning his eyes back to Ryoga, the bald man continued, "But you didn't tell Akane about me, either. I asked you to, Ryoga, and I was even covering for you just now, but the fact is that I _wanted_ you to tell her. I bowed for you, and I don't bow for anyone! Why wouldn't you just tell her that I was forced to leave, huh?" He stood up. "How hard is it to say, 'Ranma left to protect you'? I just now said it, took me about two seconds." Ranma's voice started to get louder, his face was turning red. "I'm sick of you blaming me for your problems! Take control of your own damn life, Ryoga! Leave me the hell alone!" The last sentence, yelled at the top of Ranma's lungs, echoed down the street. Dogs started barking in the distance.

Ryoga calmly replied, "Outside, Ranma, when you're done." And he left.

Ranma stood there for a few more seconds, trying to get his anger in check. Akane finally looked up at the man. "Why didn't you tell me, Ranma?"

Mimicking Ryoga's gesture, Ranma ran his hands over his bald head. "I tried to, a bunch of times, but stuff kept interrupting. I mean, I dropped hints every five minutes. I even called him P-Chan, remember?"

Kasumi spoke. "Well, Ranma, I'm glad you tried, but you really should have done more. Akane bathed with that piglet. It's improper, and she was your fiancée at the time."

Akane let out a loud 'hmph,' and turned her head away. "Was."

Soberly, Ranma sat down. "Yeah, was." He paused. "Was."

* * *

We saw Ryoga off, then I turned back to Shampoo. "Listen, Shampoo-"

She put a finger to my lips and smiled. "No, don't say it. I'm coming, Husband, and there's nothing you can do about it. Right, Jigme?"

My employer smiled. "Yes, I think she should come, too. It would do us good to have a representative from another Confederate body in our village."

I just sighed heavily. "If you say, Jigme." I turned to the Jusenkyo guide. "You have food? I starving."

"Yes, let's eat!" cried Shampoo happily. "I will cook us a celebratory meal!"

It turned out that Shampoo was as good a cook as ever, and even though the guide's noodles were old and he didn't have many ingredients, what she whipped up was as delicious a meal as I'd had in a long time.

Jigme looked nervously at the sun, getting lower in the sky. "Ranma, Lady Shampoo, we must go. We have tarried far too long."

With a full stomach I was ready for anything. "Okay." Shampoo nodded and stood up.

We thanked the Jusenkyo guide for all of his hospitality, and when we got outside we saw a pair of people bounding toward us. One of them was on a stick.

"Great-Grandmother!" Shampoo smiled again.

The young girl from earlier and Cologne landed in front of us. "Shampoo. Is this truly Son-In-Law?"

"Yes, Great-Grandmother," she cooed, grabbing my arm and sidling up against me. "It is him. He beat me in combat earlier, as well."

I gently pulled my arm from Shampoo's and waved. "Hello, Cologne. It nice see you."

She was surprised at my Chinese, but smiled anyway. "Well, Son-In-Law, it seems that fate smiles upon the Amazons yet again. Where did you disappear to, all those years ago?"

"It long story, Cologne, and we no have time." I nodded to Jigme. "He my employer, say we must go."

Shampoo perked up – which was quite a feat, as she was already very perky. "He's a member of the Confederacy, Great-Grandmother. His village has hired Ranma to train their soldiers for the upcoming war."

Cologne nodded, addressed Jigme. "You have chosen well. Son-In-Law is one of the finest martial artists I have seen in the past forty years."

"I have noticed." The sun was setting more quickly, and he was obviously in a hurry. "I am sorry, Elder Cologne, but we must be going. The village is expecting us back soon, and if we are too late, I may get in trouble."

"Yes, yes, of course. Don't let me stop you." She turned to her great-granddaughter. "Shampoo, follow your husband, but bring him back before the war begins. We must have you here."

I don't like people talking about me like I'm not there. "Look," I started in Japanese, "that's not going to work. The people who abducted me, they're not very forgiving. If I desert Lòng Trung Thành, they'll kill people that I don't want killed."

A cloud fell over the scene. "Lòng Trung Thành?" Cologne scratched her head. Shampoo looked puzzled. "It is a sad thing for you to be affiliated with them, Son-In-Law. But things are out of my hands, I fear. Shampoo. Go with your husband for as long as it takes, but be safe." Turning to me, "Son-In-Law, you be safe as well. Take care of my Shampoo."

I nodded, confused, and the old woman bounded away without another word. The younger Amazon yelped and hurried to catch up.

Jigme's expression faded into worry again. "Yes, well, let us be off."

We traveled for another six days before we reached the village. To this day I still don't know where in Tibet it was, except on the Plateau somewhere.

Shampoo filled me in on her life during the trip, and I found myself reverting into a less surly guy. I'd brought along a bottle of whiskey, because I was becoming a drunk, basically; but with her it felt like I was back in Nerima, at a happier time. I barely even thought about Fairbanks, or China, or my dead child.

We grew a bit closer over that trip, due in large part to my crippling loneliness.

When we arrived, I got settled in a small house, and Shampoo insisted on accompanying me. And, truth be told, it kind of felt nice to have someone else in the room, someone I could call a friend.

The house only had three rooms: a bedroom, a living room/kitchen, and a small closet with a toilet. Shampoo insisted on sleeping in the same room with me, and since the bedroom was just a tad bigger than this table, we ended up sleeping in the central room, she on one side of the room and I on the other.

We started training the villagers the next day. I asked Shampoo to help, you know, since she was there anyway. The more the merrier.

Let me tell you, I'm glad those people asked for training. There were sixty-two people fit for battle, and not a one of them knew how to fight, hold a gun, anything. Shampoo took care of the basic martial arts instruction, and I dealt with weapons training.

Things went well. We established a routine.

(Ranma pauses for a moment.) The, uh, first thing that happened was a few weeks in. Shampoo and I were drinking some local wine, and we ended up... um... you know. (Ranma's face flushes.)

The next morning, when I woke up naked next to a woman who _wasn't _Akane, I covered Shampoo's body and did some soul searching.

Akane... I loved Akane. Past tense. I'd thought that, _said_ that even. I still did, but it was becoming a strange sort of idol-worship. I began to doubt... not the memories, but my feelings about them. Was I making her out to be too much? Did these feelings really exist, or were they idealized?

For better or worse, I decided to try and put her out of my mind once and for all. Akane was gone for me, never to return. Idealized or not, I'd never be able to have her.

I woke Shampoo up and asked her to marry me, for real and for proper.

She squealed, of course, and kissed me, and I fought the urge to push her away. I was doing this for a number of reasons, but mostly so I would forget about you, Akane. (Ranma sighs as he notices that Akane has still not turned to look at him.)

I told you earlier that I could tell I was changing for the worse, that I needed friends. Well, Shampoo was about as friendly as I was going to find, and she certainly would help me get over you. Also, it was an act of defiance against the Order. A minor rebellion, one which I felt reasonably certain would not endanger any of your lives.

Not to mention I was lonely.

The town arranged a hasty wedding ceremony and it was done. Shampoo and I were married.

(Kasumi smiles and offers congratulations.)

Huh? No. Aren't you listening?

All right, here's a question: have you ever been dumped by anyone? (All present except Takeshi and Akane shake their heads.) Great. Well, when someone you really like dumps you, you still have feelings for them. But, since you can't be with that person anymore, you start a relationship with a third person. The third person helps you get over your ex-boy or ex-girlfriend. Get it?

(Kasumi nods.)

Good, excellent. What I'm trying to say here is that I used Shampoo, like one would use a hammer or a pair of chopsticks. It was a terrible thing for me to do.

She was happy, yes, and I eventually grew to love her in my own way, but never like Akane.

Anyway, even though we'd already... been intimate... on our wedding night I had to get drunk to consummate our marriage, if that tells you my state of mind at the time.

* * *

Akane slammed her fists down on the table and finally turned back to Ranma. "Is this what you came to do, Ranma? Tell me you didn't love me and gloat about your sexual conquests?"

"What?" Ranma's face turned to stone. "What are you talking about?" There was no question in his tone; only anger.

"This." Akane had tears in her eyes, but none spilled as she spoke vehemently. "Did you come back here to boast about your travels, to rub in my face all the women you slept with?"

A deep breath, and Ranma replied, "No, Akane, this is part of my story. You're the one who wanted to hear it."

"I didn't want to hear about the sluts you screwed!"

Ranma's voice got very quiet. "At least you don't have to sit next to the person I'm fucking."

The whole room exploded, then. Takeshi, quiet for so much of the evening, started to yell. Shin laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Kasumi yelped, and started trying to calm everyone down, but with very little success. Ranma was speaking softly to Akane, who was yelling at the top of her lungs at Ranma.

"I'll have you know that you're a guest at my house, Ranma-"

"AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Please, everyone, just calm-"

"You are still such an asshole, Ranma-"

"-you can't speak to my wife that way-"

"I will not apologize, Akane-"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Akane, please, your language-"

"-I can kick you out any time-"

"-this is a part of my story, and you're the-"

"-you haven't changed a bit, you-"

Suddenly Dr. Tofu yelled at the top of his lungs, "QUIET!" Such an outburst from the good Doctor was unheard of, and all eyes turned to him, shocked. "That's better. It seems that tensions are a little flared right now, so why don't we take a break? Ranma, come with me, would you? I'd like to speak with you out in the dojo." He turned to his wife. "Kasumi, would you walk Akane back to the clinic and fetch that book I borrowed from Takeshi?"

Kasumi looked at her husband with love and awe in her eyes. "Of course. Akane?"

The other woman stood silently and followed Kasumi out the front door.

"Come, Ranma." The Doctor stood and moved toward the dojo. As Ranma got up to follow, he could see Nabiki lean into her husband, and Takeshi glare at Ranma as he walked away.

The dojo had changed a great deal, having acquired new racks of shinai and other training materials. "Nice what they've done with the place."

"Yes," replied Tofu absently. "Ranma, you can see that Akane still has feelings for you?"

Ranma felt like he was in middle school again. "Yeah..."

"So why would you say something like that? To deliberately get a rise out of her?"

"No, I-"

"It was a rhetorical question, Ranma." Dr. Tofu sighed and crossed his arms. "Ranma, I understand that this is hard for you, and you can appreciate that this is equally hard for Akane, If not more so. You can't let your emotions get the better of you. This isn't like high school."

The martial artist grimaced. "Dr. Tofu, really, that's not what I meant. I was trying to make her feel better, in my own backward way." He ran a hand over the dojo wall, caressed the wood. "I wanted her to know that I didn't marry Shampoo because I'd chosen her; I married Shampoo to convince myself that I couldn't have Akane ever again."

"Yes, but surely you see how it could be misinterpreted?" Silence. "I'll take that as a yes. And you realize that Akane's married, now? That you can't be with her?" More silence.

"...This sucks."

* * *

Kasumi walked the dark streets with her youngest sister, who was still fuming. "I can't believe the nerve of that man!" exclaimed Akane suddenly.

"Akane, do you really think he was bragging?"

"Of course!" She kicked a stone; it flew, splashed into the canal below. "He's always been a perverted asshole."

"Language, Akane." They walked in silence a few moments. "It sounded like he regrets marrying Shampoo."

"Yeah, right," snorted Akane. "He always said that Shampoo was cuter than me."

"Akane." The long-haired woman put a hand on her sister's shoulder, stopped her in the street. "Did you really listen to the rest of Ranma's words?" Silence. "So no, then?" More silence, then a sigh. "Akane, Ranma was in love with you; he probably still is. The only reason he married Shampoo was so he could get you out of his head."

A dog barked down the street, and a cat hissed in return.

"Ranma wasn't bragging; he was trying to tell you how much he really cared."

"...Stupid way of doing it."

* * *

Dr. Tofu and Ranma returned to the dining room a while later, found Nabiki sitting next to Shin, who was rubbing his arm. "Dammit Nabiki, you didn't have to punch me."

"Oh shut up. You deserved it." She looked to Ranma. "Have a nice talk?"

Ranma nodded, sat down.

"Don't bait my sister like that again."

Tofu closed his eyes in exasperation.

Ranma retorted, "I wasn't baiting Akane, I was telling my story."

"Well, whatever you call it, don't. I may have been out of line earlier, but don't for a second think that I'm going to let you destroy Akane's life again." Hard stare met hard stare. "We understand each other?"

"Perfectly."

Shin leaned forward. "Though that was very funny, what you said earlier." Nabiki moved swiftly, and he was rubbing his arm again. "Ow! Don't DO that!"

"If you reacted to threats like a normal person, I wouldn't have to resort to physical violence."

"Oh, _that's_ a good argument."

"So," interrupted Tofu, desperately trying to keep everyone distracted, "where's Takeshi?"

"He went outside to have a cigarette-" The man in question entered the room from the kitchen. "There you are, Takeshi. I thought Akane said you'd quit?" Nabiki frowned at the man.

He resumed his place at the table, his face a mask. "Quitting. Down to one a day."

Harsh silence.

"That's good. Smoking is bad for you, you know." Fluorescent light glinted off of Tofu's glasses.

"Yes, I'd heard."

Shin smirked, flinched as Nabiki raised her hand.

Wind.

"I'm sorry, Takeshi. I shouldn't have said that." Ranma didn't even look at the other man.

"Don't worry about it, it was nothing." He stared off into the distance, as well.

Footsteps approached, Akane and Kasumi re-entered the room. "Here, Takeshi. Thank you for letting us borrow it." Kasumi handed the man of the household a small book.

"No problem." Still stone-faced, he placed the book beside him on the ground. Akane seated herself next to Takeshi, silently.

There was an invisible wall between the husband and wife, and everyone there could see it.

* * *

Shampoo and I continued training for a few days after our wedding, until one night when the shit started to hit the fan.

I woke up in the middle of the night to Saya, standing over me, dripping water on my face. Already a girl I sat bolt upright, almost sending Shampoo off the foot of the bed. "What are you doing, Husband?" she cried angrily.

"Hold on, Shampoo. Saya," I said in Vietnamese, "what on earth are you doing here? And, come on, water? In the middle of the night?"

The girl shrugged. "It's raining outside. What do you expect?"

Shampoo eyed Saya up and down, noticed how the wet clothes clung to her teenaged curves. "Husband, who is this? And what are you saying?" She glared at me.

"Sorry, Shampoo. She friend from Vietnam. Just friend." Saya cocked her head to one side, quizzically. "Saya, we have speak Chinese. Shampoo no understand Vietnamese."

"And who is Shampoo?" Even in the night I could see Saya eye Shampoo, size her up in return.

"I am his wife. And who are you, child?" Shampoo's voice was dangerous.

"A colleague." A beat passed before, "You're married, Ranma?"

"Long story short, Shampoo from Japan, meet in Jusenkyo, marry few days ago. Now what you doing here?" My eyes itched from fatigue.

"You move quickly, Ranma." Quiet, like a wolf stalking its prey.

"Saya." I focused as much disdain into my expression as I could. "This not time. Why you here?"

And just like that, all business. "I'm here for several reasons, the principal one being that the Village Council asked me to come."

Shampoo stretched, cat-like, and I shivered involuntarily. "Hoa Mới sent for me?"

"No." Before I could ask the obvious question, she continued, "Many things have changed, Ranma.

"Hoa Mới is no longer the leader of the Village Council. She was challenged to a duel, and lost. Many people had criticized her management these past few years."

"I haven't seen any problems."

"Please, Ranma, listen. The village is all but deserted. Hoa Mới had been sending out more and more people, until there were so few left at home that training classes were cancelled. Training was cancelled, Ranma." She stared at me, waiting for a response.

"Uh... so?" I guess I didn't see the big deal.

"Training hasn't been cancelled since the Order was founded!" I shrugged, and she let out a vexed sigh. "When pressed, Hoa Mới refused to say why she was doing these things. The other members of the Council were in the dark, as well. She was going behind their backs, acting without the consensus of the group.

"So she was challenged, and she lost. Another council member ascended to the position of Leader: Minh Màu. He has since been trying to figure out what is going on, what Hoa Mới was up to. Part of that means sending messengers," she gestured to herself, "to contact field operatives like you."

I opened my mouth to speak; she cut in swiftly before I got the chance. "No, there's more. Kim – you remember Kim – has been garnering a large deal of support. Well, large in terms of the Council. I fear that by the time I return, she will have ascended to the Council itself."

Now that was worrying. She'd already tried to kill me at least once.

"These are bad signs, Ranma." Her head shook solemnly. "Never before have such things happened in the Order. Kim would be the youngest Council Member ever; training is cancelled; the village is all but deserted; and the entire continent reeks of war."

I cocked an eyebrow. "War?"

"Yes. There have been attacks on the Chinese government recently, by different groups. They've retaliated by cracking down in the larger cities, imposing martial law; but the more remote bases are still getting peppered by gunfire and explosives."

"The Confederacy is moving." Shampoo's voice surprised me, and I turned. "It is almost time for China to fall."

"You know about this?" Saya took a step toward my wife. "What is happening?"

"Hold, hold. Confederacy going war China, want freedom for small population cities, towns." I didn't want the two of them getting into anything in the middle of the night. Thankfully, Shampoo nodded at my choppy explanation, which seemed to placate Saya a bit.

"I hope they know what they're doing. The whole world is bracing themselves for the repercussions. If the situation does degenerate into civil war-"

"It will." Shampoo grinned a toothy grin.

Saya ignored her. "...If it does, no country on earth will be left untouched. Already businesses have been pulling out of Chinese companies, factories, and the like."

I thought about that for a minute; if that were true, the whole dynamic between China and the rest of the world would change.

Well, Shin, you and Nabiki probably understand better than I do what happened.

But getting back to the story, I shrugged again, then yawned. "Not my problem. That all?"

"No!" I smirked a bit as Saya fought the urge to hit me. "There's more! The-" I held up a hand to silence her. I heard something odd in the distance. "Ranma-"

"Ssssh!" The sound was getting closer. It pulsated rhythmically, like... "Helicopters?"

Shampoo jumped to her feet. "Yes, I hear them too."

"You bring helicopters, Saya?" I asked as Shampoo and I threw on our clothes.

She shook her head no. "Could it be the Chinese government?"

"Hope not." I led the two women outside to scan the skies. I deliberately avoided looking directly at Shampoo as she changed. As long as I didn't think about it, it didn't bother me.

Sure enough, off in the distance a trio of military-looking helicopters were bearing down on the village, cutting through the rain ominously. "Shit. Shampoo, wake village, meet me at armory. Saya, help Shampoo."

"Yes, Husband." Shampoo's voice made me cringe. I grit my teeth and pictured human-Shampoo as she and Saya sped off.

When they were gone I sighed, relaxed my body. The thup-thup-thup of helicopter blades was growing steadily louder; I sped into town, toward the village's armory – armory meaning a small shed where they kept their guns. It lay toward the center of the town

It was locked, but I broke the door down and turned on the light. They didn't have much; just a few dozen Kalashnikovs and three anti-tank RPGs. I grabbed a rifle and some ammo, loaded it up as quickly as I could, and went back out into the rain. A thought struck me, and I ducked back into the shed to grab one of the RPGs and an extra round.

Outside the wind picked up a bit, and carried with it the sound of impending doom.

People started approaching the armory, disheveled and panicked. "Grab guns, hide, wait for Shampoo. She tell what do. You," I pointed to a father and son, "you grab RPG, follow me."

The men obliged and we started running toward the east edge of the village. I had to slow a bit to let my compatriots catch up, and then the 'copters arrived, soared over our heads. Sure enough, they were Chinese military, armed to the teeth, searchlights on, scanning the ground. I ducked against a building.

A speaker crackled, from the lead helicopter. "Attention: this village is under control of the Chinese Army. Lay down any weapons and move into the open." One of the aircraft peeled off toward the west end of town. I had to act.

"You, boy. Stay here. If you get clear shot at helicopter, shoot." I looked him straight in the face. "Not waste. Only shoot if able hit." He nodded, clearly scared. I grabbed his father and started back into town.

One man in the east; two helicopters in the center, one west. Myself and another man moving toward the center of town. My mind raced.

I prayed that no one would start shooting yet. There was still a chance to avoid an actual battle.

Helicopter one repeated its message, hovering; the second was off somewhere else while the third started to land, about fifty meters in front of us. No one was visible on the ground, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

My hand on the man's chest stopped him, pushed him up against a low retaining wall. "That," I pointed to the helicopter now discharging soldiers, "your target. When I whistle, you fire. Understand?"

The man's voice failed him, but he nodded and I patted him on the shoulder. You go to war with the army you've got, I guess.

I skirted the grounded helicopter, ducking around houses and through small gardens. I cloaked myself by Bending the Light, but my squelching footsteps were more than enough to give me away.

Suddenly, gunfire. I heard the whine of a helicopter engine struggling to lift off, cursed. I whistled as loudly as I could.

The father acquitted his job as well as I could have expected. His weapon went off almost immediately, hit the tail of the helicopter and sent it to the ground, hard. It didn't explode; it had only been a few feet up. But we didn't have to worry about its weapons being used on us, so that was a plus.

Rifles began firing everywhere. In the short time I'd been away, Shampoo and Saya had managed to stash villagers in key positions around the village center. And although they only had rifles, the barrage of rounds forced the lead helicopter to peel away.

Then the Chinese soldiers on the ground started firing, and things got pretty hairy.

There were twelve soldiers, between houses. The villagers were scattered here and there, firing from whatever cover they could find – tall grass, homes, fences. The soldiers had the advantage, of course; they were trained for this sort of thing.

I saw them advance systematically, picking off some of the older villagers who couldn't move as quickly. I had to wrench my eyes away; there were still two helicopters to deal with.

I saw the lead helicopter wheel about on the north end of town, start flying back in toward me. I took the opportunity and fired my RPG. Luck was with me, I think, because my round was off-course until the last second, when the helicopter pilot swerved the wrong way and the explosive pierced the canopy. The primary detonation ripped apart whoever had been inside; damaged and out of control, the machine plummeted into a house and exploded.

One more to go.

A second barrage of military-grade weapons from the western part of the village. Then, a chain gun.

I had to dive out of the way to avoid being ripped apart by the last helicopter's bullets. It must have discharged its strike team and come around for a strafing run.

Shit was going badly for us. We had numbers on our side, but they had training and better equipment. We really didn't have a chance.

By the time I got to my feet again I could hear explosions, screams. Sounded like grenades. I left my RPG in the mud and started sprinting toward the sounds of fighting. What I saw when I arrived was... bad.

A large group of women and children were surrounded by Chinese. Some of the villagers were still fighting down the road a bit, but more of them were laying down their weapons and surrendering. I didn't see Shampoo or Saya anywhere.

I watched more and more people get rounded up. Fighting died down as I huddled among houses, hiding, waiting. Eventually no one was left to fight; everyone still alive was captured. The third helicopter made a few more sweeps of the village while small squads of soldiers went out into the village searching for more people.

They passed a few steps away from me.

Twenty minutes later everyone was back. The aircraft landed, and a man stepped out and approached what looked to be the leader of strike team one. They exchanged a few words while people huddled in fear, soaked from the rain. Children were crying.

An order was given and soldiers started moving, readying their weapons. A voice rang out from another loudspeaker. "Ranma Saotome, I know you are there. Surrender yourself or all of these people – every last one – will die."

Mohammed.

He had me dead to rights. I couldn't let those people die, I just couldn't.

I dropped my camouflage, but before any of the soldiers caught sight of me a pair of hands hauled me around a corner. It was Saya and Shampoo – who still resembled a cat demon. If she hadn't covered my mouth with a big, furry paw (Ranma shudders) everyone would've heard my scream. Saya tried to shush me, but I kept screaming into Shampoo's paw-hand. Thank goodness for the rain, or we'd have been found out.

Eventually Saya caught on and covered my eyes, swapped places with Shampoo to cover my mouth as well. "SSSSHHHHH!! She's gone; you don't have to worry anymore!"

"C-C-C-C-Cat!" I stuttered into Saya's hand.

"Really, you're afraid of cats?" I could hear the laughter in her voice. I'd have gotten mad at her, but I was too busy whimpering in fear. "You sure married the right woman." I whined again.

"Sorry, that was mean. But you've got to be quiet, okay?" I nodded and she removed her hand from my mouth, kept my eyes covered. "You can't go out there, Ranma. It's a trap. They'll kill them anyway."

My heart pounded in my ears. "I d-don't have much of a choice, d-do I?" I couldn't concentrate hard enough to speak in Chinese, and so switched back to Japanese.

"Yes you do. Run." I shook my head. "Yes, Ranma. We'll run away. Either way the village is dead. There's no way the Chinese army is going to allow these people to live."

"But it's not the Chinese military! That was Mohammed on the loudspeaker!"

"Hmm... I thought that voice sounded familiar." I tried to move her hands off of my face, but she stopped me. "No, not yet."

"Saya, I can't just sit here and let them slaughter an entire village! I'll take my chances out there!"

"This is your last chance, Ranma Saotome!" Mohammed's voice sounded haughty, confident.

"Let me go, Saya!"

"No!" Her grip on my eyes doubled, and she shifted her weight to pin my shoulders.

"Yes!" I easily lifted her off of me and stood up, but something tripped me, pinned me again. Saya's hand came back over my eyes.

"Just wait!"

"Saya, damm-" Then the gunfire started. Saya and Shampoo had to hold me down.

When it was done I was out of breath. Shampoo panted in my ear, and I could feel Saya's heartbeat through my grip on her forearm.

Silence.

"Damn you, Saya." The women let me up and I peered around the corner, afraid of what I'd see.

Sure enough, the entire town was dead. Murdered.

I don't know why, but I could hear the conversation between soldiers. Maybe the wind died down, or maybe it was adrenaline; either way, I could clearly hear Mohammed speaking to another man. "No, he's not here. He would've come out."

"Maybe he died in the fight earlier?"

"...Maybe. Check the town again. If you find him, report back to me immediately."

Tears stung my eyes. "Shampoo?"

"Yes, Husband?" Her voice was small.

I took a deep breath. "Kiss me, and don't let go."

* * *

I came to the next day. Inexplicably, the sun was shining and the sky was clear. It was a beautiful day.

"Ah, you are awake." Shampoo was back in her human form. She reached over and brushed some hair out of my face. "Good morning, Husband."

I didn't feel up for any light-hearted banter. "Did I do it?"

Her lips compressed into a thin line. "Yes, Husband. You killed them all. Saya is making sure that there's no trace of us left, and burning the village."

I smiled a mirthless smile. "Good."

* * *

"That was the start of the Chinese Civil War, the first official battle." Shin's voice was soft, filled with awe. "You were there?"

Ranma nodded. "I played a rather large part in the War, actually. Though not officially," he added as an afterthought.

Dr. Tofu's expression was a mixture of compassion and pity. "That must have been horrible."

"Oh, yes. Yes indeed."

A deep breath, then, "Ranma, did you really kill all of them?" Kasumi gripped her ponytail nervously.

"Surely you aren't defending those murderers?" Incredulity.

"No, no, it's just... you've changed." Kasumi's eyes darted to and from Ranma's face.

Several uncomfortable seconds passed before Ranma spoke. "Yes, well, some of the things that I've seen... they'll change you. And I mourn the old me as much as anyone."

Kasumi smiled a shaky smile. "You seem to be doing okay now, right?"

"Something like that."

A small noise came from the youngest sister. Ranma turned to her and saw that she was crying again. She noticed his stare, started rubbing her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm a bit emotional tonight." She sniffed and continued to wipe at her eyes. "It's hard to be forced into change, isn't it?"

"Without question." The martial artist's mouth curved up into an affectionate smile – there, then gone just as quickly.

Shin grabbed a pretzel and stuck it in his mouth. "This is nuts. What happened next?"

A deep breath.

* * *

POSTSCRIPT: The first half of this chapter was written super quickly. The characters just ran off on their own. The second half was more like pulling teeth. If you can tell the difference in writing style, please kick me, so I can fix it.

The Chinese Civil War concept was conceived a long time ago, before all of the hubbub with the Olympic Torch. It's not meant to be topical like that, but it turned out that way. I'd apologize, but I actually think it worked out pretty well! Sweet.

Shampoo's hybrid cursed form thing looks kind of like Felicia from Darkstalkers, if you're interested. Though, of course, not as erotic or gratuitous. And considerably hairier.

As usual, thanks for reading, and if you have any comments, give me a review or a message.

POST-POSTSCRIPT: An anonymous reviewer brought up a very good point. I'll leave the post up, if you want to look at it, but I'm also going to paste the main point here.

"Just a little problem... Couldn't he just use a ki blast to take out the helicopter, and save the ammo for the villagers to use?"

Yes, absolutely.

BUT.

One thing I'm trying to do with this story is NOT destroy what came before, but build off of it. And to that effect, I can not in good conscience write Ranma using most of his ki-blasts.

The speed training he received is useful every day; the toughness as well; even the Hiryu-Shoten Ha, and the Umi-Sen Ken, and etc. etc. etc. But the ki-blasts he learned were, for the most part, based off of his emotional state. Whether Ryoga's depression blast or Ranma's pride blast, they drew heavily from the feelings emanating from the user.

Ranma is an emotional wreck. He's been through a lot, and he's definitely going through some mood swings. While useful against any foe, the pride blast just isn't reliable because of his current depression. And his depression blast wouldn't be reliable enough because of a.) his innate pride and arrogance that is _never_ going to disappear, and b.) his marriage to Shampoo, which made him a little happier, no matter what he says to the contrary.

So yeah, he definitely could use a ki-blast to take out the helicopter. But he may as well try throwing rocks at it, for all the good it would do. Without a definitive emotional state, any ki-manipulation like that would be useless.

Thanks for the post, though, anonymous reader! And please keep good questions like that coming!


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